


another you (another way)

by LegendaryNonsense



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ava Sharpe Needs a Hug, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Sara Lance Needs a Hug, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 59,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryNonsense/pseuds/LegendaryNonsense
Summary: “I know it’s hard for you to imagine, but where-” The time traveler broke off, sighing. “When I’m from, you and everyone on this roof aren’t just heroes. You’re Legends.”Sharpe then looked away and something about her faraway gaze at the sky told Sara that, whatever it was that the taller blonde was seeing, it had little to do with the starless, dark immensity. It took Sara more time than she would want to admit for her to read that expression, but, when she finally did, she thought that Sharpe looked...Sad. She looked sad.Season 1 AU. In which Rip vanishes from the timeline and Ava has to take his place. (Temporary summary)
Relationships: Laurel Lance & Sara Lance, Sara Lance & Ava Sharpe, Sara Lance & Team Legends, Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 184
Kudos: 279





	1. Sara I

_Next recruit: Sara Lance. Former member of the League of Assassins. Also, formerly dead._

Sara took another sip of her drink, reveling in the taste of alcohol on her tongue, even if it couldn’t do much to drown her turbulent thoughts nowadays. Through the frozen glass of the window, she watched the snowstorm raging outside, cold air seeping through the walls even with a fire burning inside the bar.

Cold. Like dying. Like the dark water surrounding her body and enveloping her skin as Sara tried to find the surface, lungs begging for oxygen for the first time in a while.

She downed the rest of her drink and poured herself another one, trying to guide her mind to some other place, anywhere. The glass had been halfway to her mouth when she saw it, in the dimly lit reflection in the window.

The candlelight was the brightest detail, its orange light shining against the glass, but it also made something else easier to see: a burly, drunk man grabbing a woman, who screamed as she tried to get away from him.

Something familiar settled inside Sara’s chest; something she wished she wasn’t as acquainted to, and she tried to shove it to the deepest part of herself. But it was still there, hovering on the edges of her soul, burning more as she watched that scene.

Then, Sara was speaking. “ _Let her go._ ” At this point, Tibetan just rolled out of her tongue as easily as English did, and, although she didn’t bother to raise her voice much, it seemed enough for that man to listen.

He turned to her, smirking, and released his almost victim, harshly pushing the poor woman away, only for her to be grabbed by one of his friends. “ _Or what?_ ” The man asked, keeping his attention on Sara.

Sara dragged her eyes from his reflection to her drink, lying in front of her on the table. She stared at the glass for a short moment, nonchalant, before downing its contents. It was a good drink, after all, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

She turned the empty glass in her hand and hurled it with no warning, hitting the man right in the head. He fell to the floor with a loud thud, and the entire bar fell into a heavy silence. Sara closed the distance between them while he got up.

The man’s eyes widened when he noticed her proximity, a trickle of blood sliding from where the glass had broken and cut the skin. He threw a desperate jab, which Sara blocked with her forearm, and she used the opening to hit him again; first, elbowing him in the face, then punching him right in the nose. She heard something crack just before he fell to the ground once more.

In the tense silence that had settled into the bar, it was easy to hear another man drag his chair to get up, behind her. Sara turned to him just as he tried to hit her with a piece of wood and punched him in the stomach in the time it took for him to raise his arm and attack. Finally, she grabbed his head and slammed it against the table.

Like the other man, this one fell to the floor, motionless, and Sara stared at him. Something in the back of her mind whispered to her, spreading like a known poison, and she dragged her gaze from the fallen men to the woman they had almost abused, only to turn to them again.

Death sounded like a fitting punishment. It _was_ a fitting punishment, for no woman should suffer at the hands of men, and Sara would rather not imagine what these pigs would’ve done to the poor woman had she not interfered.

It would be _so easy_ to-

“Ms. Lance.” Sara’s eyes shot up at the sound of a woman’s voice calling her name – a name that no one around these parts should know –, and she turned around to find someone staring at her, a small, polite grin gracing the stranger’s lips. “You are a difficult woman to find.”

Sara stared at the unknown woman, who was, as she had heard, an English speaker, an American accent tugging at her words. The stranger was tall – taller than Sara –, blonde, and she was wearing a pantsuit. Nothing in her relaxed shoulders, crossed arms and small smile indicated even a small trace of surprise at what she had just seen.

This woman had been there the entire time, watching what happened, and Sara _hadn’t noticed it_.

Sara clenched her jaw, eyeing the stranger with suspicion. “Who are you?”

The taller blonde tilted her head to the side, just a little, and something Sara couldn’t quite identify passed through her face. It was gone as soon as it appeared, tough, and the ex-vigilante could not be sure if it had been real.

In the end, the stranger merely shrugged. “That’s a subject for another time.”

Sara opened her mouth to retort at the same time the other woman raised an arm. She was holding something, and every alarm in Sara’s mind went off at the possibility of it being a gun.

Before she could do anything – before she could disarm the stranger – a bright light flashed before her eyes, and Sara remembered nothing that came after it.

**\- LOT -**

“What a headache.” “Stein... what the hell are you doing here?” “I’m as ignorant as you, for once.”

Sara blinked, and she found herself staring at a dark sky with no stars.

Her mind felt foggy, and it was unusually difficult to concentrate. Still, Sara realized three things: she was lying on something hard and rough, like concrete; there were numerous people speaking English around her; she no longer felt the freezing cold that enfolded her skin and seeped into her bones even under her coat, which was starting to feel a bit too hot to wear.

No, she was no longer in Tibet.

Sara sat up, looking around. She was on what appeared to be a roof, and all around were buildings of varying heights. There were other people there, as she had heard: six men and one woman, and all of them seemed to have woken up like she did.

“Where are we?” Sara asked, her body tensing.

“Why don’t you ask the woman who knocked us out and kidnapped us?” Someone replied, a mix of displeasure and snark in his voice.

Sara turned to the origin of the sound, finding a young, unfamiliar guy not too far away from her. He seemed to be the youngest out of them all, and there was a sardonic smirk on his face.

He spoke again, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Blonde with a flashy thing. Ring any bells?”

In fact, it did. It was the last thing Sara remembered before she blacked out, after all, and it made her purse her lips in displeasure.

Just who was that woman? And why had she been looking for Sara?

“Glad to see you’re awake.” For the second time in too short a time, Sara was taken aback by the sudden voice.

Her head turned to the owner of the voice in such haste that it made her neck hurt, and Sara found the same woman from the bar in Tibet. There were no weapons – or the irritating flash thing – in sight, but Sara tensed, fingers twitching as she studied the taller blonde with her eyes.

The stranger was standing not far from the group of people she had seemingly kidnapped, with her hands buried inside the pockets of a grey coat that hadn’t been there before, although the pantsuit seemed to be under it. Her long hair was loose, falling in perfect waves over her right shoulder.

She looked once at each other person on the roof and, when her eyes landed on Sara, it took a bit more time for her to drag them away. Finally, the stranger put a smile on her face again, although it seemed more like a grimace, and she looked at no one in particular when she started to talk.

“I know you must have some questions.” She spoke, letting out a deep breath after doing so.

The same guy who had replied to Sara before was the one who retorted, and he seemed even more snarky now. “Oh, you think?” He asked, raising both eyebrows.

The tall woman seemed unaffected, and she shrugged. “I’ll answer whatever you ask, but, first, I think I should introduce myself. My name is Ava Sharpe. I’m from...” She trailed-off and cleared her throat, averting her gaze for a second. She looked uncomfortable, and Sara narrowed her eyes at her.

Sara was good at reading people – it was one of the many things that the League had trained into her. And this woman was hiding something. Sara could see it in the way this stranger, Ava Sharpe, refused to look at any of them, how her polite smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, how she hesitated in speaking just then.

Gone was the woman who had met Sara at the bar in Tibet, the one with the relaxed posture, who had approached the shorter blonde as if she hadn’t just watched her knock two men out.

It made the already present suspicion in Sara’s chest inflame, and the ex-vigilante got up from the floor, as did everyone else. She watched as the stranger’s jaw tightened a bit, relaxing again right before she resumed her speech.

“Fresno, California.” Sharpe said, with that grimace trying to pass for a smile still in place. “That’s not the interesting part, really. I’m also from the future.”

“Nice to meet you, Ava.” Someone replied, although his deep voice conveyed no actual pleasure. Sara turned to him for a second, finding a bulky, bald man.

He reached for something on his belt, just to stop when Sharpe spoke. “You’ll be pleased to know that I tampered with your weapons while you were incapacitated.” Her smile, then, didn’t look as fake as did before. Instead, there was a hint of something in there as she stared at the bald man.

It was a look that seemed weirdly... soft? Sara frowned, uncertain if she had maybe misinterpreted it, but the strange look was gone just as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving no trace behind.

The forced polite grin made its return, and Sharpe started speaking again.

“I’ve assembled you all here because I need your help.” The taller blonde said, her face conveying nothing other than nervous courtesy. “The future of the world is in danger. Vandal Savage-”

Someone interrupted her. “That can’t be. We destroyed him.” The man who had spoken frowned as he stared at Sharpe with a mix of disbelief and what looked like apprehension, and none of that backed his words.

“Yeah, Green Arrow and Flash helped us do it.” The woman standing between him and Sara was quick to agree, although she was no better at hiding her worry than he was.

The ex-vigilante, for her part, wondered who these people were and what were they talking about. However, before she could make her doubts known, Sharpe spoke again.

“In fact, that’s the problem. Unless you or Mr. Hall deliver the final blow, Savage can be revived from a single cell.” She explained, though she was no longer looking at the people she was talking to.

Instead, a crease appeared on her forehead as she stared at something on her wrist. Sara narrowed her eyes, trying to force her vision to identify the decide. It could be a mere watch, but, even from the distance, it didn’t look much like one.

The tall blonde looked up again when the bulky, bald man from before spoke, and, as she released the sleeve of her coat, the black band around her wrist went into hiding again.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man asked, making no effort to hide his anger.

Sharpe didn’t get the chance to reply, as the man who was apparently Mr. Hall did it first. “Savage is immortal. Kendra and I reincarnate.” He explained, pointing at himself and at the woman beside him.

Sara suppressed a shiver, and her hands balled into fists inside her coat’s pockets. She felt it again, the coldness against her skin, against her bones, against her very soul, flinging her in the darkness. Her sole companion then being a voice, a voice just like her own, whispering _kill_ , _kill_ , _kill_ -

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to banish the voice from her head. Her hands felt like they were immersed in something warm and a bit viscid, like-

Like blood.

She took them out of her pockets in a haste, but she saw no red smearing the white skin. A relieved sigh made its way past her lips, and she looked around to see if anyone had noticed her behavior.

“Sa- Lance?” Sharpe’s voice made Sara turn to her, and she found the taller woman staring at her with a frown. “Are you okay?”

Sara’s eyes widened a bit, and it took her a moment too long to school her expression. Sharpe had noticed, it seemed, and that fact didn’t sit well with the former vigilante. Still, she went to do what she did best: pretend everything was fine.

“Yeah, it’s just... I’ve done that.” She pointed at the Hall guy, speaking like an off-hand comment, and she shrugged for good measure.

Sharpe’s frown deepened a little, and, when the taller blonde opened her mouth, Sara feared she’d ask more questions. Instead, no sound came out, and her kidnapper closed her mouth, though she still looked at Sara with a strange look in those – _blue_ , they were blue – eyes.

The fact that she couldn’t read that particular look unsettled Sara, but she decided not to ask, lest Sharpe would voice her previous questions. Instead, she simply crossed her arms.

The bulky, bald guy was the one to break the silence then and Sara felt strangely grateful to a man whose name she didn’t even know. “And what the hell does this Randall guy got to do with us?”

Sharpe’s snapped to him, widening a bit in surprise. It was like she had forgotten that he was still around, Sara thought.

Then, the taller blonde schooled her face back into that fake polite smile. “Vandal.” She corrected, not unkindly. “In the future, he’ll employ the evil he’s perfected over his life, which was, and I’m sure you understand, very long. He’ll conquer the world.”

No one replied, and, after a pause, Sharpe spoke again.

“I’ve been ordered to assemble a team to stop him.”

“How?” Sara found herself asking before she could think twice about it.

Because, as far as she could tell, this Vandal Savage was a powerful immortal. It didn’t seem like a fight fit for someone with her particular skillset, even if Sara could manage to find the ability to trust herself again.

Sharpe’s eyes flickered to Sara once before she averted her gaze. “Time travel.” The taller woman shrugged, as if she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. “We’ll use it to capture Savage before he grows into the monster he becomes.”

The brief silence that settled in the place was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps as a man approached the time traveler. He had a shaved hairstyle and was wearing a large blue coat.

“You got the wrong guy.” He stated as he walked past Sharpe. “Hero ain’t on my resumé.”

“Or mine.” The bulky, bald guy from before grumbled, following his... friend? Partner?

The duo stopped walking when Sharpe finally spoke again.

“I know it’s hard for you to imagine, but where-” The time traveler broke off, sighing. “ _When_ I’m from, you and everyone on this roof aren’t just heroes. You’re Legends.”

Sharpe then looked away and something about her faraway gaze at the sky told Sara that, whatever it was that the taller blonde was seeing, it had little to do with the starless, dark immensity. It took Sara more time than she would want to admit for her to read that expression, but, when she finally did, she thought that Sharpe looked...

_Sad. She looks sad._

“Legends?” Someone broke the silence, and the sound made Sharpe school her expression again. Sara recognized the voice, as she did the person who it belonged to. Ray Palmer, former CEO of Palmer Technologies. Also, a vigilante who called himself The Atom.

Sara gave him a brief look, finding him still wearing his exosuit. Then, she dragged her gaze back to their kidnapper, who was staring at Ray with a small, sincere smile on her face. It was soft and tender, and Sara found herself frowning, confused.

Because, unless she had misunderstood something, Sharpe wasn’t supposed to know any of them personally. At least, she hadn’t mentioned if she did.

Or maybe-

Another voice broke the silence just as the time traveler opened her mouth to reply. “I, um, I hate to nitpick, but doesn’t a legend have to be dead?” He asked and, upon turning to him for a moment, Sara realized that he was an old man, with grey hair and wearing glasses.

And he had a point.

The guy Sara still thought was too young to be there approached the old man. “Yeah, that’s a deal breaker for me, so I’m going to pass.”

Something that sounded almost like a snort escaped Sharpe. “I’m from...” There was a brief pause, almost too short for anyone to notice, although Sara most certainly did. “2166. You can’t honestly expect to live that long.”

She... also had a point, Sara had to admit.

No one said a word, and so the time traveler continued to talk. “Either way, it’s dangerous for any of you to know too much about your own futures, but I’m here because each of you, as individuals, is very important to the survival of this world.”

She sounded so sincere that Sara had no doubt that she believed what she was saying, but the ex-vigilante couldn’t find it in herself to do the same. She stared down at her own hands – hands that had spilled so much blood, and it didn’t even used to matter who it was from.

The hands of a murderer – the hands of an _assassin_.

How could she bring something other than pain and destruction to this world?

Around her, time continued to pass, and someone else spoke. Ray again. “I could get behind that.” He stated, his voice full of determination, of hope – everything Sara didn’t have.

Sharpe smiled at him again, in that same soft way. But it lasted a short moment before she turned on her back and walked to the edge of the roof. She stopped there, still not facing the group.

“Also, because, if you don’t follow me...” She took some kind of device out of her coat’s pocket. “This is what’s in store for your world.” The time traveler pressed a button and, just like that, the surrounding buildings and the starless sky gave way to something else.

There was fire everywhere, and all the buildings around them were in ruins. The sky was red, and, for an instant, Sara felt as if she couldn’t breathe. There were strange spaceships flying, shooting crimson rays at everything below, like something straight out of a movie.

Sara’s arms dangled at her sides.

Was that the future that awaited them? The future that awaited her family?

No one said a word, and Sharpe, who had turned to them again, was left to break the tense silence. “I could have chosen any time and any place, you know? Of everyone who has ever lived, I chose you eight. I hope you won’t let me, or the world, down.”

The tall woman pressed the button on the device again before returning it to her pocket. Then, the projection vanished, and the many buildings and the starless night sky were there again, as if they had never left.

Then, Sharpe walked back to the group, reaching into her pocket as she did so. She stopped beside Sara but kept her gaze straight ahead instead of looking at the shorter blonde. She handed the ex-vigilante a piece of paper, which Sara was quick to pick up.

“If you answer is yes, meet me at this address in 36 hours.” Then, Sharpe walked away.

Sara stared at Sharpe’s back as she walked away until the time traveler was out of sight. The rest of the group had approached her in the meantime, wanting to read what was on the paper that had been handed to her.

She eyed the piece of paper. Nothing but short words, written in graceful cursive letters. And she recognized the address. They were in Star City, then.

Someone, the old man, asked for the paper, and Sara handed it to him. She then extricated herself from the group that huddled around her and stared at the space in which the projection of the dark future ahead of them all had been.

She really, _really_ needed a drink.

**\- LOT -**

Sara knew Star City like the back of her hand. She had grown up there, after all, despite the years she had spent away. Which was the reason why she had known that she’d never intended to go to the Verdant even before she found herself staring at the door to Laurel’s apartment.

She stood in the hallway, eyes glued to the door, for what felt like too long, her heart racing inside her chest; because maybe she shouldn’t have come.

Because Laurel was better-off without her.

Still, she knew that her sister wouldn’t be happy if she ever found out that Sara had been in town and hadn’t stopped by to see her. That, and she missed Laurel so much that it made her heart feel tight in her chest.

So, Sara took a deep breath and took her right hand out of her coat’s pocket, guiding it to the door. After a moment of hesitation, she finally knocked three times, and the sound was so soft that she almost expected Laurel not to hear it.

But then... “I’m coming!” Sara heard Laurel’s voice coming from inside, a bit muffled by the door and the walls. “Look, for the fourth time, I didn’t order-” The door flung open, and Laurel’s voice got caught in her throat as she saw who was waiting on the other side of it.

“I’m... not the delivery guy.” Sara remarked, trying to seem amused, even as her heart hammered in her chest.

Suddenly, Sara had her arms full of Laurel as her sister engulfed her in a hug that was almost too tight, almost too much. She hugged Laurel back with equal force, letting out a deep breath as the older Lance’s presence seemed to chase away the cold and the voices in her head, if only for now.

“Sara- oh my- you- what are you doing here?” Laurel asked, her voice cheerful, as she finally let go of Sara, though she kept her hands on her sister’s shoulders, as if to ensure that the shorter one wouldn’t disappear.

Sara, in turn, gave her a small smile, feeling the first twinge of happiness in a long time, and then squeezed her sister’s hands. Her smile turned into a smirk, and she raised an eyebrow.

“What, should I leave?” She asked, only half-joking, and laughed as Laurel’s eyes widened.

The older Lance’s grip on her shoulders tightened a little. “Of course not. You surprised me, that’s all.” She smiled again, eyes studying Sara. “I’m glad you’re here, really. I just didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

Which was reasonable. Sara had left so she could learn to deal with her bloodlust, but she was no closer to achieving her goal than she had been when she left Star City. Still, here she was, standing on her sister’s doorway, far away from the solitude she had sought in Tibet.

No wonder Laurel was surprised.

Sara’s smile faltered, and she looked down. “I know, I...” She trailed-off, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t intend to come back.” She confessed.

The worry was clear in Laurel’s voice when she replied. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Sara thought about the night’s events. It felt like a long time since she had been in that bar, fighting those drunks. Instead, her mind was filled with Ava Sharpe. Ava Sharpe, the proposition that she had made, and the future that awaited that city – and the whole world – if Sara didn’t accept it.

And she felt completely drained.

Her shoulders slumped, and she took a deep breath. “That is...” How to explain it? “A long story.” And Sara honestly didn’t feel like discussing it, not right now, as much as she wanted her sister’s input.

Laurel squeezed her shoulders again, and Sara looked up at her sister’s worried eyes. “You don’t have to talk about it now.” The _but at some point_ was implied. Laurel wouldn’t let something that was bothering Sara slide like that. Then, a smile appeared on the lawyer’s face. “Movie night?”

Sara found herself smiling too. “Yeah, I think... I think I’d like that.”

It was all she had to say for Laurel to pull her into the apartment and close the door behind her. It made her chest feel less tight, and the weight on her shoulders diminished a bit as the Lance sisters settled on the couch, and the older on took the remote to find something for them to watch.

Half an hour later, and Sara had no idea what was happening on that screen. She didn’t know the characters’ names, and she most certainly didn’t know the plot of the movie. Her mind continued to replay the night’s events, like a movie of its own.

Her brain kept repeating the time traveler’s words. ‘ _I know it’s hard for you to believe, but where-_ when _I’m from, you and everyone on this roof aren’t just heroes. You’re Legends._ ’

‘ _I could have chosen any time and any place, you know? Of everyone who has ever lived, I chose you eight. I hope you won’t let me, or the world, down._ ’

It sounded like something meant for someone else, someone who most certainly _wasn’t_ Sara. She was no hero, far from it, and it was unlikely that she’d become one, even if her bloodlust was not a problem.

No, Ava Sharpe was wrong. She _had_ to be wrong.

“Hey.” Laurel’s voice pulled her away from her thoughts, and Sara turned to her sister, who then bumped her on the shoulder with her own. “Are you okay?”

Sara sighed. “Yes.” At Laurel’s skeptical look, she snorted. “Okay, I think I’m just, I don’t know, a bit anxious.” She offered, watching as her sister narrowed her eyes at her.

Then, in a sudden movement, Laurel lifted the remote and pressed a button, turning off the TV.

“Hey, that was a good movie!” Sara protested, despite not even knowing the title of the said film.

“You’re not even paying attention.” Laurel replied, rolling her eyes as she got up from the couch. She then offered a hand to the younger Lance. “C’mon.”

Sara eyed her sister’s hand with suspicion. “Where are we going?” She asked as she took Laurel’s hand and let the older Lance pull her from the couch and toward the door.

Laurel’s answer came when they were already putting on their coats. “The Arrowcave.” The taller woman replied, opening the door for Sara. “Let’s spar.”

Sara froze, her eyes widened as she stared at her sister. Sure, she knew Laurel was a good fighter, but the older Lance hadn’t reached her skill level yet. And, more than anything, Sara feared she’d lose control around her sister and would hurt her – maybe _kill_ -

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to rid her brain of the possibility, and took a deep breath. When she risked looking at Laurel again, she was sure that her sister could see the hesitation in her eyes.

“Laurel-”

“Sara.” The older Lance interrupted her before she could say another word, holding her gaze.

Sara glared at her half-heartedly, but Laurel was unflinching. The younger Lance knew, than, that nothing she could say would make her sister change her mind, especially if Laurel really believed that a spar would help her.

So, Sara let her shoulders slump in defeat and sighed. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Laurel’s answering smile was full of glee, and Sara found herself reciprocating with a small smile of her own, even as the uneasiness settled on her chest.

The duo then left the apartment, and, on their way out of the building, Laurel finally spoke again. “You can tell me what happened on the way.” She said, and, although a little reluctant, Sara ended up doing just that.

The Lance sisters were already in Laurel’s car when Sara began to talk. The way to the Arrowcave was filled with her telling her sister about her journey to Tibet, the bar fight, Ava Sharpe’s sudden appearance, how the woman kidnapped her and brought her back to Star City, and finally Sharpe’s proposal, and even Sara’s brief glimpse of the future.

Laurel had listened to her speak, not interrupting once as she drove to the Verdant, and she broke the silence that settled after Sara finished speaking only as she finally parked in front of the bar.

“I... don’t know what to say.” She stated, with her hands still gripping the steering wheel. Despite the situation, the words made Sara chuckle, for it was rare for her to see her sister speechless. “Let me just think for a moment.”

The shorter Lance nodded, and the taller one remained silent, thoughtful, all the way to the bunker. There, the duo abandoned their coats, and Laurel put on her gloves as Sara grabbed her bo-staff.

“Still nothing?” Sara asked as they finally stood in front of each other.

Laurel put herself in a fighting stance. “Honestly, no.”

Sara chuckled just before making the first move, which she was proud to see that Laurel managed to block. Time appeared to pass quickly after that, and the sisters reconnected in between punches and kicks and dodges and blocks that made Sara’s blood run wild.

Because fighting was something she knew how to do. It worked as a way to make her feel a little better, a bit more in control of herself again, something she hadn’t felt since Tibet.

Since Ava Sharpe.

Laurel remained silent as the minutes pass; the only noise made by her being the occasional grunt when Sara managed to land a hit. But then, when the shorter Lance was no longer expecting some answer, the older one started to speak.

“I remember when you told Mom and Dad that you wanted to go to sleepaway camp.” Laurel said it almost like an off-hand comment, and she stopped moving after she dodged her sister’s staff.

Sara stopped moving too, and the two stood face-to-face.

The younger Lance found herself smirking, even though, on the inside, her stomach was churning. “This’ll be a little different.” She said, tilting her head a bit.

Sharpe’s words were still fresh in her brain. ‘ _Also, because, if you don’t follow me... this is what’s in store for your world._ ’. Sara still remembered the ruins, the red sky, and the memory was enough to make a chill run down her spine.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the image, and forced herself to keep smirking, if only for Laurel’s safe. Then, she split her staff in two batons but didn’t move to attack her sister, who was standing still as well.

“Time travel.” The older Lance repeated, and there was still a tad of disbelief in her voice. “I can’t believe we’re talking about it like it’s something real.”

Neither could Sara, to be honest. “I know.” The shorter blonde sighed.

Then, Laurel moved to attack again, and, while Sara had to admit that her sister was getting really good, she was still ahead of the older Lance in training. The ex-assassin dodged and blocked every single one of her sister’s attempts of hitting her, and, finally, she grabbed Laurel’s wrist and held her arm in place.

Finally, Sara held one of her batons against Laurel’s neck, and the taller blonde chose that moment to speak again. “I think you should go.” She said, slightly out-of-breath.

Sara looked at her for a second too long before letting go of her arm. Honestly, she had expected Laurel to talk her out of this whole situation – had _hoped_ for it, even. Because she just needed an excuse, just one.

She swallowed. “Laurel, I died.” She forced a humorless smile to her face but found herself unable to sustain it for too long. The cold had returned with full force, caressing her spirit, and it was just one more reminder of why her going on this mission was a horrid idea. “I’m still picking up _those_ pieces.”

Sara then turned her back on her sister and walked away, only for Laurel to follow her.

It took her a long moment to gather the courage to face Laurel again and, when she did, she spoke once more. “The Lazarus Pit brought me back, but it left me with this need to take. To kill.”

She remembered those men in Tibet, how easy it’d have been to kill them. How much a huge part of her had wanted to do it. Then, she remembered being at that rooftop, feeling like her hands had been dipped in blood – because they _had been_ , and she’d never be able to wash it off.

“I’m dangerous.” She stated, looking down.

In front of her, Laurel crossed her arms and took a deep breath. “After you died, I needed a channel for my grief. I found it in becoming the Black Canary.” Sara could hear the small smile in Laurel’s voice. “I found it in you.”

Because that was her sister. Too good for this world and certainly too good for Sara.

The younger Lance sighed and looked up at her sister again. “For me, being the Canary was never that positive.”

“Then don’t be the Canary.” Laurel replied, a small, sincere smile on her face. Sara said nothing, waiting for her sister to give her an explanation. “Do what Oliver’s been doing. Do what this Ava Sharpe is offering you the chance to do and be a hero in the light.”

The older Lance’s smile grew a bit, and her hand found the younger one’s cheek.

“Be the White Canary.” Laurel winked at her and then walked away.

Frowning, Sara followed her sister, who stood in front of one of the suit-displays.

Then, the younger Lance saw it, and she stopped walking. In front of her, there was a suit that she had never seen before. It was all leather, white and sleeveless, and it appeared to be just her size.

Sara felt like all the oxygen had been banished from her lungs. “Where did you get this?”

Forget about that. Just _how long_ had her sister been planning this? Especially when Laurel didn’t even know that Sara would be back in Star City any time soon, let alone tonight.

“I have a resourceful friend named Cisco.” Laurel answered as she positioned herself behind Sara, resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder.

The smile that came to Sara’s face was slow to appear, but it was there all the same. “Where’s the mask?” She asked, noticing for the first time that the suit didn’t have one.

“You don’t need it anymore.” Her sister replied. “You’ve lived in the shadows long enough.”

The ex-assassin continued to stare at the suit, mesmerized, and she felt like her heart was swelling in her chest. Then, she turned to Laurel and engulfed her in a tight hug, which her sister was quick to reciprocate.

As Sara stood there, hugging Laurel and so close to the proof of her sister’s complete trust in her, she thought that maybe... just maybe... she could do this.

Laurel believed she could, at least. So, why couldn’t Sara herself?


	2. Sara II

Laurel dropped her off near the agreed address, and Sara was surprised to find some of her soon-to-be teammates heading there as well. It had seemed unlikely, seeing as the rest of the group had looked less than pleased with Ava Sharpe when they met her on that roof.

Still, when the only other option was the world’s end, was there even a real choice?

The one who first noticed her approaching was Ray, and he smiled at her. “Oh, hey there, Sara! I see you decided to come.”

She walked over to him, envying the man’s apparent good humor and optimism. “Yeah, it doesn’t feel like I had much of a choice.” Sara replied in a somewhat dry intonation and saw the big man falter a bit, which allowed her to notice something else about him.

He was nervous, far more than he wanted to appear. Still, he nodded at her and kept smiling, and, just as he opened his mouth to speak again, someone else broke the silence first.

“So, you know each other?” The one who questioned was the guy with a shaved hairstyle, wearing a large blue coat. He spoke slowly, with a dragged pronunciation, and watched Sara and Ray with unmistakable interest.

That one was Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold. Beside him was Mick Rory, aka Heatwave. Barry had had a lot to say about the duo when Sara called him to ask the night before, upon discovering who they were.

Convicted felons. An odd choice for someone who wanted to form a team to save the world. Then again, Ava Sharpe had also chosen Sara, an ex-assassin herself. Honor and goodwill did not seem to be a prerequisite for this mission.

“Yes.” Ray answered as Sara remained quiet, studying the guy who went by Captain Cold. “Sorry, I’m being rude. I’m Ray Palmer.” He offered Snart his hand to shake, but the other guy did nothing other than stare it until he let it drop beside his body, his friendly smile faltering.

Finally, the man in the blue coat spoke again. “Leonard Snart.” He stated, bringing his gaze from Ray to Sara. He crossed his arms and inclined his head to the bulky man beside him. “And this is Mick.”

Rory, for his part, grunted something unintelligible and nodded at the others. He seemed annoyed, if not just downright angry.

Sara nodded, more to herself than to the convicted duo, at having her information confirmed. She, then, turned to the remaining pair, whom she had guessed to be a couple even before Oliver related it to her.

Kendra Saunders and Carter Hall, aka Hawkgirl and Hawkman, respectively. Sara could admit to being curious about their wings, as she saw no sign of those while staring at them.

The man spoke first. “I’m Carter Hall.” He stated, his features shaped into a seriousness that could also be heard in his voice.

The woman beside him spoke next. “Kendra Saunders.” She said, her voice no more friendly than that of the man beside her, but for an entirely different reason. She looked uncomfortable, tension lacing her shoulders as she hugged her own body.

Sara made a noncommittal sound in acknowledgement. She had been careful to do her homework before embarking on this strange little mission, and the only ones whom still needed to be checked were the duo Martin Stein and Jefferson Jackson, aka Firestorm, but they hadn’t shown up yet.

Finally, Sara noticed four pairs of eyes on her, and she realized she was the only one who still had not introduced themself. “Sara Lance.” It was all she said, receiving as an answer silent nods from _almost_ everyone else.

Snart tilted his head. “I’m aware. Sharpe seemed a bit...” He pressed his lips together, seeming to be deep in thought for a second. “worried about you, when we were on that roof, don’t you think?”

Sara clenched her jaw. He had noticed, then. And, while she was pleased to know that she hadn’t imagined the worry she had seen in Sharpe’s eyes, she didn’t like considering the very real chance that Snart might have noticed the reason for said concern as well.

But he said nothing more, and Sara forced a smirk. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting.”

She didn't wait for a reply before turning her back on him and everyone else. Instead, she walked the rest of the way to the agreed location, listening to the footsteps that followed behind her. Said place, for its part, was an open space on the outskirts of the city.

There was, however, no sign of Ava Sharpe.

The only one already there was the old man whom she now knew to be Martin Stein, and he stood beside a silver car. In the front seat, Jefferson Jackson, whom Sara still thought was too young to be there, was unconscious.

She raised an eyebrow, alternating her attention between the pair, but said nothing. Her lips curled into a real smirk as understanding dawned on her.

“Professor!” Snart was the one to break the silence, catching Stein’s attention. “This is the place.” He gestured around, to the open space with no sign of the woman who had called them there.

Ray’s voice then came from right behind Sara. “I think we’re being punked!” He commented, and she looked at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Do people still say punked?” He asked, his voice a little quieter as he held her gaze.

“No.” Sara replied before looking ahead again.

Of course, there was always a chance that Ray was right, that the whole thing was just a ridiculous prank, but Sara didn’t believe that anyone skilled enough to kidnap her would do it for a joke. It’d take a special kind of idiot to do so, and Ava Sharpe didn’t seem to be an idiot.

“I see your buddy threw himself a going-away party.” Sara was pulled from her thoughts by Hall’s comment, and she turned to man in time to see him point at the unconscious guy in the car.

It seemed like everyone had come to the same conclusion she did: kidnapping. Not that there was even another possibility to think about. The situation was obvious, despite Stein trying and failing not to look nervous – or maybe because of it.

Stein swallowed. “Yes, I believe he drank something that didn’t quite agree with him.”

Oh, he most certainly had; something like a sleeping pill, maybe. Sara had to suppress a chuckle.

“You don’t look too happy to be here.” Snart stated, and Sara looked at the man to find him staring at Saunders.

The somewhat sardonic smile that showed up on Hawkgirl’s face at Snart’s statement did little to hide her grimace. “Perceptive.” She said, rolling her eyes.

Just as she finished speaking, the group reached Professor Stein, and Sara stopped walking. Then, she looked around, frowning, but still found no sign of Ava Sharpe. A nagging thought at the back of her mind whispered that maybe Ray had been right, maybe it was just a prank or a-

“So, you’ve all decided to come, after all.” The voice came suddenly, and Sara turned to its source immediately, suppressing a groan. Her brow furrowed while she gazed at Sharpe and asked herself just how the hell did this woman keep sneaking up on her.

But then, her eyes found Sharpe, and Sara found herself frowning for an entirely different reason, as the daylight allowed her to see something she hadn’t noticed before.

Ava Sharpe was still beautiful – because, although she wasn’t happy to be kidnapped, Sara wasn’t _blind_ –, but she also seemed sickly pale, and the deep, dark circles around her blue eyes belonged to someone who hadn’t slept in quite some time. She looked exhausted, almost ill.

Sara raised an eyebrow, curiosity blooming inside her, but kept quiet, leaving the time traveler to break the silence that settled upon her arrival.

“Well then, we can be on our way.” Sharpe smiled that same mannerly grin from before, and she gave a brief look to each person in front of her. Sara found something akin to relief in her eyes.

Then, the time traveler turned her back on the group and started walking away. It was evident that she expected everyone else to follow, no questions asked.

No one moved, and Snart was the first to speak. “I ain’t footing anywhere.” He said, crossing his arms.

Sharpe stopped walking, and Sara thought she heard something similar to a chuckle coming from her, as short-lived as it was. Then, the time traveler looked at Snart over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect you to, Mr. Snart.”

She then stuck her hand into her coat’s pocket, pulling out a small device.

“You see, we can’t let civilians find out about time travel.” Sharpe stated. “It’s against the rules.”

Sara frowned at that. She had always been partial to rule-breaking, and, if this time traveler turned out to be the by-the-book type, this partnership of theirs would be in trouble soon enough.

The thought was soon forgotten as Sharpe pressed a button on the device and a gigantic spaceship showed up just ahead, out of nowhere. There were white letters written on the metallic surface of the hull, WR-2055, and the sound of its engines filled the previous silence.

Sara’s mouth fell open, her eyes glued to the ship.

Sharpe, for her part, chose that moment to talk again. “A giant timeship in full view wouldn’t help with that.” Her tone was light, casual, as if she were saying nothing out of the ordinary.

“Holographic indigenous camouflage projection.” Stein replied, his voice filled with wonder.

Sara had no idea what he had said, but she kind of agreed that it was impressive.

“That’s right, Professor.” At the sound of Sharpe's voice, Sara forced herself to avert her attention from the ship and toward the time traveler.

Sharpe stared at the ship with a faraway look, akin to the one Sara had seen on that roof – like she wasn’t seeing what was in front of her, but instead saw something else. There was badly disguised sadness in the way she looked at the ship, and some discernible longing.

It was interesting, to say the least – a loose piece of a complicated puzzle.

Sara continued to stare at Sharpe even as the time traveler schooled her features again, putting on her habitual polite smile. “This is the Waverider. It’s been my home for a while.” The time traveler then looked at the group over her shoulder. “Shall we?”

As if Sara needed an invitation.

**\- LOT -**

The interior of the timeship was every bit as impressive as the outside of it, like something straight out of a sci-fi movie, and Sara drank in every detail as she listened to Sharpe answering everyone’s questions while they walked the corridors.

Finally, the group reached an open space inside the ship. There were viewports that let the people in there see the outside, in front of which there were a panel and a metallic chair. Behind it, Sara counted ten additional seats, two of which seemed newer than the other ones. In the middle of the room, there was some kind of hexagonal-shaped console, with screens.

Just like a movie, Sara thought as she looked around.

“How does a vessel of this size function without a crew?” She heard Stein question and turned to Sharpe, also somewhat curious to know the answer.

The time traveler opened her mouth to respond, only for someone else’s voice to come first.

“Oh, Gideon handles it.” Sara turned to the source of the sound, finding a woman casually sitting on the steps that led to yet another chamber. She was thin and didn’t look very tall, with dark hair and green eyes.

Sara tilted her head as she stared to the unknown woman, who held her gaze with a raised eyebrow and a smirk for a moment before dragging her gaze to Sharpe.

“They don’t look that impressive.” The stranger stated, with a hint of challenge in her voice.

Sharpe shook her head slightly, a small smile appearing on her face. “Be nice.” Then, she looked around, to the people staring at her in search of answers. “This is my best friend, Eleanor Adams. She’s been helping me with this mission.”

The Eleanor woman got up, smirk still in place. “You can call me Nora.”

Sara watched her walk to Sharpe and stand beside her. Then, Adams whispered something to the time traveler, who shook her head and whispered something back.

Finally, Sharpe turned to the rest of the group again. “Oh, and this is Gideon.” She gestured to the central console, above which a bluish holographic projection of a human head then appeared.

Sara stared; her mouth slightly agape – she seemed to be doing that a lot today.

“Welcome aboard.” A voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time greeted, and the hologram’s mouth moved to match it. “I am Gideon, an interactive consciousness programmed to operate this vessel’s critical systems and aid Captain Sharpe in her mission.”

“And I’m very thankful for your help, Gideon.” Sharpe replied soon after the A.I. stopped talking, looking at the hologram with soft fondness. She ignored Snart’s question of ‘ _Captain?_ ’ and turned to the rest of the team before speaking again. “Gideon’s been helping me locate Vandal Savage.”

Sara frowned. If she didn't get it wrong, the Savage guy was pretty popular in the future. Wouldn't it be easy to find him?

Ray voiced her doubts, sounding just as confused as she felt. “I thought you said he’s pretty active in the 22nd century.”

“Perhaps engaging Savage at the height of his powers isn’t the best strategy.” Stein replied before Sharpe could say a word, and the time traveler nodded at him in response.

“Indeed.” She replied, letting out a sigh. “Unfortunately, Savage kept his movements well hidden throughout history. Not even Gideon can find him. But Professor Aldus Boardman can. He is the world’s only expert on Vandal Savage. We’ll pay him a visit.”

It seemed simple enough, in Sara’s opinion. So why couldn’t Sharpe look any of them in the eyes? Why was she nervous?

Gideon’s omnipresent voice interrupted her thoughts. “Course plotted for St. Roch, New Orleans. October 17, 1975.”

“Thank you, Gideon.” Sharpe replied and turned to her audience again. She gestured to the chairs behind the panel. “I suggest you all strap yourselves in. Temporal navigation isn’t something one wants to be standing up for, at least not at first.”

She went to the chair directly in front of the panel and sat on it, while the rest of the group sought one of the seats behind her. Sara ended up in a chair between Ray and Adams, and she was quick to strap herself in, as instructed.

Sharpe continued to speak, with her back turned to the group. “Now, this is your first time, so it’s possible that some of you will experience some discomfort.”

“Like what?” Kendra asked; her fingers gripping the metal handle of her seat tightly.

“It varies.” Sharpe replied, letting out a nervous chuckle.

At the same time, Adams turned to Sara, with an amused smirk on her face. “It’s hell.”

Sara, for her part, frowned, and her fingers gripped her seat by reflex as Sharpe continued to talk. “It’s just... the human body is used to time unfolding linearly.” The time traveler said, but nothing in her tone inspired any confidence.

The ship trembled, and Sara could see through the viewport that it had taken flight. At that instant, she finally allowed herself to believe what was going on. She was about to travel back in-

“What the...!” Sara’s eyes snapped to the origin of the voice, seeing the Jackson guy finally awake. He looked around frantically, already starting to fight the strap that kept him in his seat.

Sharpe turned to him, startled. “Hey, don’t do that!”

But Jackson was having none of it, and Sara could barely hold her laughter. “Get me off whatever this thing is!” He yelled, trying and failing to push the metal handle away from himself.

Sara smirked at Stein. “Good luck explaining this.”

“I did him a favor.” The professor was quick to retort.

“He doesn't look all that grateful.” Snart replied before she could, and his little smirk held as much amusement as Sara felt.

Sharpe, for her part, let out a sigh and turned her back on the group again. “Just hang on and keep calm. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Then, she pushed a handle on the panel in front of her, and things started to get a bit hard to explain from there.

**\- LOT -**

So... to keep it simple, Sara felt like dying. And that was saying something, as she had experience with death. She remained on her chair and let her head hang back, blinking to try to get rid of the worst vertigo she’d ever felt.

Around her, the others had their own reactions. She watched Rory puke beside his own seat, while Ray fell to the ground as soon as he got up from his chair. Adams, for her part, stood up as if there was nothing wrong and walked to Sharpe, who had rushed to help Ray.

“So, perhaps I should’ve mentioned it before, but nausea is one of the side effects of time travel.” Sharpe explained as she helped the former CEO to his feet. “Vertigo too.”

“I can’t see.” Stein stated. He took off his glasses and stared ahead, unblinking.

Sharpe said something to Adams, whom rolled her eyes and took Ray’s arm to support him, before walking to Stein. “That’s the temporary blindness. I hated this one. It should last only a minute.”

The time traveler stood in front of the professor and put her hands on his shoulders. Sara watched as she examined the old man’s eyes for a moment before speaking again.

“We didn’t travel very far, but, the further we go in time, the worse the side effects.” Sharpe said, and Sara had to keep herself from asking just how _this_ could get even worse. “Of course, it’ll only last until your bodies adapt. Don’t worry.” She turned to Stein again. “Better?”

“It's all relative.” He replied, still staring ahead, unblinking.

Sharpe sighed. “That’s the best I’ll get, I think.”

She turned her back on him just as the guy sitting beside the professor managed to finally get out of his chair. Jackson stood up and took a step towards her.

“Hey, I want to go home.” He demanded, dispensing a short, livid look at Stein before turning to the woman in front of him again.

Sharpe turned to him and Sara watched her frown for a moment before sighing. “Okay.” The time traveler answered, much to Sara’s – and everyone else’s – surprise. “I’ll take you back as soon as we finish this. It’s best if we don’t waste the trip.”

Jackson himself seemed to be taken aback by her answer, and he stared at her with wide eyes for a long minute before nodding. Sharpe did nothing more than to give him a short-lived smile before she turned to Adams, who was still beside Ray, supporting him.

“Nora. You should show the three of them around while I take the rest of the team to find Professor Boardman.” Sharpe pointed to Sara, Snart and Rory as she spoke, although she didn’t look at any of them.

Sara frowned, feeling the familiar cold fury hovering over her skin as the vertigo faded.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rory, who was still in his seat, was the one who spoke, looking at Sharpe with an unimpressed gaze. “You're benching us?”

Sara herself stared at the time traveler, the crease on her brow only deepening. “I thought we were a team.” She stated, crossing her arms if only to keep them in check. The cold was still there, just waiting for an opportunity to spread, and she didn’t want to take any chances.

Sharpe looked down and sighed. “For now. This mission doesn’t require your particular skillset.” She replied, not unkindly, but Sara could understand the meaning behind the words all too well.

The team was going to meet with a professor, so why would they need an assassin? That was what Sara was, after all – and nothing more than that, despite having forgotten the fact for a second.

“Meaning you don't need anyone killed, maimed, or robbed.” Snart voiced her thoughts, speaking in what seemed to be his usual tone: slow and always a bit mocking.

Sharpe turned to him; her lips curled into a tight, insincere smile. “I just think taking the ten of us to talk to a professor is a bit of overkill, not to mention harder to do without drawing unnecessary attention.” She retorted, her voice a bit more dry than usual. Then, Sharpe turned to Adams. “Nora, you and Sa- Ms. Lance are on babysitter duty. Take care of these two.” She gestured to Snart and Rory.

It was the second time that Sara noticed the time traveler slip and almost call her by her first name. Not just that, but Sharpe was leaving her in charge, alongside Adams. Sara’s brow furrowed a bit more, but, before she had a chance to ask, someone else spoke.

“Hey, Pantsuit.” Rory called, and the referred woman turned to him. “Deafness wasn’t one of the side effects.” He deadpanned.

“I’m aware, Mr. Rory.” Sharpe replied, with a small smile tugging at her lips.

Nothing about that woman made sense, apparently.

Snart then got up from his seat. “So, you don’t trust us.” He was slow to walk toward her, just as he was slow to speak, and the time traveler’s eyes zeroed in on him, her previous smile long gone. “That hurts, _Ava_.” He said when he finally stopped in front of her.

She held his gaze, unflinching. “No, I don’t. Not right now, anyway. You seemed less than happy with the proposal I made and yet you’re here. Why’s that?” She tilted her head, her face blank.

“Who would turn away the chance to save the world?” Captain Cold answered, but his voice held a feigned kind of innocence that made it sound too mocking for anyone to believe him.

Sharpe narrowed her eyes. “We both know that’s not why you’re here.”

The duo stood there, stuck in their staring match, for what felt like a long time. Sara, for her part, couldn’t take her eyes off Sharpe, her mind racing to make sense of all this new information – the time traveler didn’t trust Snart and Rory, that much was obvious, but what reason did she have to trust _Sara_?

“Wait...” The ex-assassin took a step toward the time traveler, who then looked at her. “So...” She dragged the vowel. “You don’t trust them, we’ve established that. But, somehow, you trust me to keep them in line?”

It didn’t make any sense. Because, while Snart and Rory were convicted felons, Sara was a killer. She had done terrible things, far more than both men – the only real difference between them was that they had been caught. She was actually much worse.

Sara was a monster if she’d ever seen one, and Sharpe had to know that. Why, then, did the woman seem to trust her more than she did Snart and Rory?

She saw a flash of _something_ cross Sharpe’s blue eyes, something Sara couldn’t quite put a finger on. “I do.” The time traveler spoke as if were the simplest thing in the world. “That’s all you need to know.”

It wasn’t, not by a long shot. But before Sara could ask, Sharpe had turned her back on her, facing the rest of the team.

“Now, we better hurry up. Professor Boardman will die in less than 24 hours.” She stated, already walking out of the bridge.

Ray was the first to follow her. “What's the point in cutting it so close?”

Professor Stein interjected, walking behind him. “Because, if he’s destined to die, then he doesn’t have a timeline for us to disrupt, and his impact on the future will be minimal. How brilliant.” He sounded sincerely amazed, despite the fact that he was talking about someone’s death.

“And depressing.” Saunders replied, crossing her arms. She turned to Sharpe. “How does he die?”

The time traveler hesitated for a second too long, still at the doorway to the corridor. “He’s found dead in his university from unknown causes.” A sigh then escaped her lips. “C’mon.”

“Ava, wait.” Adams called before Sharpe could take a single step, and the latter turned to her once more. The brunette walked over to the other woman. “Did you take another dose?” Sara was close enough to hear the words, despite the whispering.

She frowned. Another dose of what, exactly?

Sharpe, for her part, looked at the device on her wrist and shook her head. “I still have some time to spare. Don’t worry.” The smile she directed at Adams was sweet and short-lived, dying as soon as her eyes found Sara again, if only for a moment. “Don’t let them out of the ship.”

Adams nodded, and Sharpe turned to the rest of the team.

“Let’s go.” With no further interruptions, she left the bridge and, one by one, the others followed.

Stein was the last to leave and, before he did so, he turned to the guy he had kidnapped. “Are you coming?”

“I'll stay put.” Jackson replied, crossing his arms.

“You'd rather stay with them?” Stein’s intonation told Sara exactly what he thought about her and the duo who was to stay behind with her. She couldn’t really blame him.

“They didn’t drug me.”

“Point taken.” Stein answered before going after the rest of the team.

Sara let out a deep breath and looked at her remaining companions. Rory was still in his seat, and Snart had moved to occupy his own again. Jackson stood still, with his arms crossed. Adams went to seat on the same steps where Sara had first seen her, staring at the group with pure disinterest.

The ex-assassin took the chance to approach the other woman, and she sat beside her on the stairs. Adams raised an eyebrow but said nothing, leaving Sara to break the silence.

“So...” She dragged the vowel. “What’s with you and Sharpe?”

It was bold of her, and she knew it. Sharpe and now Adams were the only ones on the team about whom Sara had little or no information, and the fact didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t like being blindsided, and that was likely to happen if she didn’t know who she was working with.

Adams held her gaze, a sardonic smirk on her face. “Best friends, like she told you.”

Nothing Sara didn’t already gather, which made the information useless. So, she decided to probe a little more.

“You seem pretty close.” She said it like an off-hand comment, something unimportant, and made sure to shape her features into the purest form of boredom. “Childhood friends?”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most useful question to ask, but it would help in determining just how much information she could gather on Sharpe from Adams. It was also innocent enough that the brunette shouldn’t think much of it, unless she was aware of who Sara was.

A brief chuckle escaped Adams, who then raised an eyebrow at Sara. “Don’t think for one second that I don’t know what you’re doing, Lance. Ava may trust you, but I sure as hell don’t.”

Bingo. It appeared that Sara had been right to think that Sharpe was placing an unexpected amount of trust on her. Adams might think she was smart, but the ex-assassin was still miles ahead of her.

“Yeah, about that...” Sara clicked her tongue, still maintaining the façade of disinterest. She stared at the men in front of her, watching Rory trying to operate some TV while Snart observed, looking bored. Jackson, for his part, had moved to sit on one of the chairs again. “Why does she trust me, exactly? We don’t know each other.”

Adams’ smirk tightened a bit, like she had noticed what she’d let slip. “Well, she’s a time traveler. She must’ve seen you become something worthy in the future.” She shrugged, dragging her gaze from Sara to the men.

The ex-assassin hummed in acknowledgement. “A Legend, according to her.” But that still wasn’t a good explanation. Because, if that was the same fate that awaited Snart and Rory, why was Sara the one to receive special treatment?

She heard another chuckle come from Adams, and she turned to the woman again to find unhidden amusement on her face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Adams’ far too quick answer was more than enough for Sara to know she was lying.

Still, the ex-assassin decided not to insist. The brunette was far too guarded at the moment, making the task of getting information out of her harder than Sara had the patience to deal with. She could wait for a more opportune moment.

Silence filled the room, interrupted only by whatever it was that Rory was watching. It didn’t take much for boredom to start blooming inside Sara, and she sighed before getting up from the steps. She then walked toward the men, leaving Adams behind.

“Why does this stupid station play nothing but reruns?” Rory asked, glaring at the lit screen.

Sara shrugged, uninterested in his current predicament. She dragged her gaze to the other chamber in view, where the steps led, and managed to see some bottles on the table in the back – she could use a drink at the moment, honestly.

She had just taken a step toward the other room when an idea flashed in her mind, and she turned to the men behind her again.

“Am I the only one on this ship who could really use a drink?” Sara raised an eyebrow. “I say we go get weird in the '70s.” After all, it would be a shame to waste an opportunity such as this.

Snart turned to her promptly. “Excellent idea.”

“I got the perfect outfit.” There was no way in hell that what Sara had in mind was what her sister had ordered the suit to be made for. Yet, it was as good of an opportunity to wear it as any.

Before she could leave the bridge, Adams spoke again.

“Ava told you to stay on the ship.” The brunette stated, not once looking at Sara. She just seemed uninterested, bored, with her elbows resting on her knees and her fingers interlaced in front of her face.

Sara shrugged. “Well, Sharpe isn’t here.” She went to keep walking, only to find that her body no longer obeyed her. Even as she tried to take another step, her legs remained frozen, unresponsive. “What-?”

“None of you are going anywhere.” Adams interrupted her, and Sara looked at her again, finding the brunette with a hand raised towards her, fingers positioned as if holding something.

 _Someone_.

From the corner of her eye, Sara saw Rory get up and point an accusing finger at Adams. “Witch!” He exclaimed, reaching for his gun, only to freeze too.

Adams let out a sardonic chuckle. “I’m glad to see you have _some_ observational skills.” She then turned to Sara; there was a seriousness in her face that hadn’t been there since the ex-assassin first saw her. “Now, I’ll drop the spell, but no one is leaving this ship.”

She opened her hand and dropped her arm, and Sara felt her limbs start working again. The White Canary moved her arms, glad to see that she could do so again, never taking her eyes off Adams.

Sara could see why Sharpe kept the brunette around, other than their apparent friendship.

She smirked, a bit mocking. “So, you’re Sharpe’s guard dog.”

Instead of entertaining her, Adams let out a deep breath and shook her head. “I really don’t know what she sees in you.”

Sara frowned in confusion, her smirk faltering a bit, because what the hell did _that_ mean?

The ex-assassin had no time to voice her question, as the witch spoke. “Well, Ava told me to show you around, so how about we get to that?” She got up from the steps and started walking towards the corridor. “And don’t try anything funny, or I’ll open a portal to hell and push you through it.”

She couldn’t do that. _Could she?_ Still, Sara found herself following the woman, as did the men in the room with them.

“I’m sure _Ava_ wouldn’t approve of that.” Snart stated as he followed Adams, his voice filled with mockery when he pronounced the captain’s name.

Adams shrugged. “She’d forgive me. C’mon.”

**\- LOT -**

It all happened almost too fast for her to follow.

In one moment, Sara had been listening to Adams begrudgingly explain how the fabricator at the kitchen worked. In the other, something exploded outside, making the whole ship quiver, and she found herself running after the witch, alongside Snart, Rory and Jackson, to check it out.

What she found outside was complete chaos of smoke and gunfire, with the rest of the team trying to fight back against some guy in a weird futuristic armor, with a gun unlike anything the vigilante had ever seen – and she had _a lot_ of experience with weapons.

“So, they managed to pick a fight with Boba Fett.” Snart commented, his voice dry.

They were still standing at the cargo bay, with the door hatch open. Adams was the first to move, stepping out of the ship with her arms raised – immediately, Sara watched the laser beams starting to explode while still in the air, as if crashing into something she couldn’t see.

Some kind of magical barrier, she supposed.

When Adams spoke again, it was between clenched teeth, her arms trembling in effort. “Be useful at least once. Go get them. I’ll cover you.” She didn’t look at them as she barked the orders.

Jackson was the first to move, and Sara saw him run to where Stein was without a care. Snart and Rory exchanged a brief look before the latter shrugged, and then they also rushed out of the ship, leaving Sara behind with Adams.

Suddenly, the witch screamed. “Ava! Ava, get out of there!”

Sara followed her gaze, finding the time traveler standing in the middle of the open field. “I’ll get her.” She announced just before she found herself running to Sharpe, who still didn’t move.

The ex-assassin reached the time traveler with ease, as Adams continued to protect them from the laser beams, and found her staring at the figure who was shooting at them with glazed eyes. Sharpe didn’t seem to notice her presence, didn’t seem to even register what was happening.

“Hey, Sharpe!” She called, but the other woman didn’t appear to hear her. Sara grabbed her arm, and the captain’s eyes finally snapped to her. “C’mon, we have to go!”

Sara didn’t wait for an answer before pulling the woman toward the ship, and, luckily, Sharpe did not fight her. They reached the cargo bay just as some laser beams started to breach Adams’ magic barrier, and the ex-assassin’s heart was racing in her chest, slamming against her ribcage.

“Gideon, get us out of here!” Sharpe ordered as the door hatch closed behind her, already running to the bridge, everyone else following her.

“Right away, Captain.”

There was just enough time for each of them to take a seat before the ship took off, with the sound of explosions still coming from outside. Sara screwed her eyes shut, fingers tightening around her seat’s metal straps, and remained like that until the noise faded into complete silence.

She opened her eyes again and the viewport no longer showed her the blue sky. Instead, something green and moving was on the outside, something unlike anything she’d ever seen.

Sharpe got up from her seat just as Gideon spoke. “Our cloaking shield and aft entrance have been significantly compromised, Captain.”

“Thanks, Gideon. Station us here in the temporal zone while I do something about that.” The time traveler replied, sighing as she went to the other chamber and returned with some sort of toolbox.

“Temporal zone?” Ray chimed in, both curious and confused.

“Yeah, it's like a time limbo.” Sharpe explained, not looking at him. Instead, she seemed focused on a panel on the wall, which sparked. “Another temporal jump could reveal our position.”

“A time limbo?” That was Stein and his perpetual wonder. “Astonishing.”

“I agree.” Sharpe said mid-sigh. “Now, let me try to fix this mess while we discuss what happened. By now, I know not to expect anything less than disaster from the Legends, but bringing a family member from the past to the ship? Really?”

She seemed far too immersed in the repairs to notice Saunders approaching her. The blonde turned around just as Hawkgirl went to punch her in the face, only for her fist to freeze before she could.

“What-?” Saunders’ voice sounded confused, bordering on panicking.

“It’s the witch.” Rory explained, a bit nonchalantly, pointing at Adams, who was, indeed, raising her hand in the same way she had when she’d used that same spell on Sara before.

Sharpe dragged her gaze to her friend, who had her lips pressed together and a thin layer of sweat on her brow – the barrier seemed to have taken a toll on her. “Nora, let her go.”

“Ava-” Adams tried to retort, but Sharpe interrupted her.

“It’s okay.” The time traveler spoke, seeming as calm as ever, as if Saunders hadn’t tried to punch her. “Let go.”

Although clearly unhappy with the decision, Adams did as she was told.

Sharpe turned to her would-be aggressor again. “Look, Ms. Saunders, I understand your-”

“My son is hurt because of you.” Saunders interrupted her; her anger far from curbed by what had just happened. Sara couldn’t see her face, but she could bet that Hawkgirl’s eyes were like a angry storm and- wait, did she say _son_? “Who attacked us?”

“That’s a long story.” Sharpe replied, sighing. She seemed to be doing that a lot.

Snart chimed in. “Better tell it fast, Ava, because it doesn't look like the lady's in a patient mood.”

“Neither am I.” Sara turned to Hall at the sound of his voice. The man didn’t appear to be happier with the situation than Saunders was, and he walked to his significant other to stand beside her.

Sharpe sighed again and, instead of giving a reply, she went to sit on the steps that led to the other chamber. Adams was fast to join her, sitting beside her friend and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Sharpe seemed strangely small when she took a deep breath before she started to talk again. “His name is Chronos, and he works for the Council of Time Masters. Rip Hunter’s former employers at this point.”

Sara frowned and took a step toward the other blonde. “Rip Hunter? Who’s Rip Hunter?”

Sharpe kept her gaze down when she replied. “The man who should have assembled this team, in the first place.”

The confusion Sara felt only multiplied. None of this made any sense. The dude who had attacked them in St. Roch was called Chronos – that part she could understand –, but who the hell was Rip Hunter and what was Sharpe even talking about?

“Explain.” Saunders spoke again, sounding a little more irritated than before, and Sara nodded in agreement, wanting an explanation as well.

Sharpe exchanged a look with Adams, who squeezed her shoulder in support, and let out a heavy breath. “Rip used to be a Time Master. He relinquished his position when he commandeered this ship. Chronos was sent to bring him in. Since I’m the captain now, Chronos is coming after me.”

Stein spoke after her, his voice full of betrayal. “You lied to us.” That much was obvious, even if the rest of the story wasn’t as easy to understand.

Sharpe let out a mirthless chuckle. “Of course. It’s what Rip did in the original timeline. It worked, so...” She trailed-off, shrugging.

Sara was getting tired of this woman’s riddles, and the familiar cold that inhabited under her skin started to spread again. She took another almost unconscious step towards the time traveler.

“The original timeline.” She repeated, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

Finally, Sharpe looked up and gazed at Sara. She had a small smile on her face, but it was a broken little thing that, along with her bloodshot eyes, made her look fragile.

She looked like a broken woman if Sara had ever seen one, and the ex-assassin took a step back.

“We currently exist on an altered timeline.” Sharpe explained and, despite looking like she’d start crying at any given moment, her voice was steady. “In the original, a man named Rip Hunter was supposed to assemble this team, but someone went back in time and killed him before he could.”

The captain wiped a lone tear that escaped her eye.

“That’s why I’m here.” She went on a second later. “To make sure history plays out as it should.”

It was confusing, and Sara wouldn’t pretend to understand half of it, but things were beginning to make more sense than they did before. Still, the ex-assassin remained silent, leaving someone else to break the silence.

“Who killed this Rip Hunter dude?” Jackson asked, and his voice held more confusion than anger. Sara herself could feel her own fury fading into a mere itch in the back of her mind.

“Someone trying to get the Legends out of the way.” Sharpe replied. “The ones from my timeline, at least.”

“So, you already knew us?” Hall was the one who spoke next. “From your timeline?”

It made sense, and it explained why Sharpe gazed at Ray with that soft look on her eyes, why she didn’t seem the least bothered by Rory’s rudeness and even smiled with it, why she placed a level of trust in Sara that the ex-assassin wasn’t deserving of.

The puzzle pieces were starting to come together in Sara’s mind, and she kept her eyes on Sharpe, trying to pick her apart as the time traveler spoke. “Not all of you. Most of the team had changed by the time I met the Legends. But yes, I’m quite familiar with some of you.”

Sharpe averted her gaze, and Sara saw her take another deep breath.

Ray chimed in, his voice filled with confusion. “If the problem was that this Rip Hunter died, why not just prevent it from happening? Why take his place?”

The mirthless chuckle that Sharpe breathed in response made a shiver run down Sara’s spine. The sound was quick to vanish, and in its place stood only a heartbroken smile that made her look like someone who has lost far too much in life.

Sara recognized it all too well, and it made her swallow.

“We tried.” Sharpe stated. “Why do you think I’m the only one here?”

The implication wasn’t lost on anyone in the room, and the silence that spread was deafening and far too heavy. For what felt like a small eternity, no one said a word, and so Sara was left to break the silence.

She cleared her throat and felt everyone else’s eyes on her. More than that, she held Sharpe’s gaze as the woman turned to her again – the captain seemed to have given up on any pretense of hiding her pain.

“Who are you, really?” Sara asked. “And you better not lie this time.” She despised that her voice held not nearly as much aggression as it should, though it was still far from gentle.

The response came less than a heartbeat later. “My name is Ava Sharpe. I am part of the Legends. Or I was. Or would have been.” Sharpe pinched the bridge of her nose. “I really don’t know.” She breathed out a sigh. “I’m from the future, like I said. Just not from 2166. I was-” She hesitated for a second. “Born... in 2213.”

She took a deep breath, and Adams whispered something to her. Sharpe nodded and turned to the rest of the team again.

“When Rip died, it meant no one ever assembled this team.” She went on. “My timeline began to crumble. The temporal zone tore itself apart. My world, everything I knew, everything I loved- it just... ceased to exist.”

Sara felt the oxygen leave her lungs as her mind formed a very clear picture – her sister, her father, her mother, her friends, everyone she’d ever known, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The mere thought made her heart constrict in her chest, and she was quick to banish it.

Saunders broke the silence. “Then, how are you here?” She sounded confused; her anger forgotten if only for now.

“I have- had...” Sharpe looked down. “A very smart friend. He developed this serum. I can’t leave the Waverider without it. If I do, I’ll disappear. It essentially keeps me existing.”

Those words made Sara remember something, the brief conversation between Adams and Sharpe just before the latter left the ship. ‘ _Did you take another dose?_ ’ ‘ _I still have some time to spare._ ’

She didn’t have much time consider that train of thought, as Stein’s voice caught her attention.

“Science is hardly enough to fool time itself.” The professor said, a deep crease in his brow.

Sharpe nodded. “Indeed. Which is why there’s some magic involved.” She tilted her head towards the woman sitting in silence beside her. “Nora, the one from my timeline, was a witch too. Another almost-friend was a warlock. They helped.” A small fond smile appeared on her face, but it didn’t stay for long.

“Why?” Ray asked. He was looking at the woman with concern, his arms slightly raised, as if the man wanted to pull her into a hug.

Sharpe smiled at him and, again, it was far too soft to be directed at a stranger. “This team is very important. I didn’t lie about that. Savage is a problem, one as dangerous as I told you about... but he’s not the only one.”

The time traveler looked around the room, her eyes gazing at every person there for a brief second. When those blue eyes landed on Sara, the ex-assassin saw something she could solely describe as utter devastation, but it lasted just a short moment before Sharpe looked away.

“The Legends have saved the world more times than I can count.” Sharpe went on, not looking at anyone in particular. “Without them, without _you_ , everything is doomed.”

Ray chimed in, suddenly excited about something. “And if you make sure everything happens the way it did in your timeline-”

“No.” Sharpe interrupted him.

He frowned. “What?”

Sharpe sighed. “There’s no way to recover my timeline. I can try to do everything Rip did, but...” She took a hand to her face in order to massage her temple. “The same situations don’t, _can’t_ have the same results with different people, never. My timeline is gone.”

She sounded resigned, in a way Sara didn’t think she herself would ever be capable of being after losing someone she loved, let alone everyone.

“So, why do all of this?” Jackson questioned, as confused as Sara felt.

The time traveler shrugged. “I couldn’t protect my family, my friends... or anyone. But I can still protect this world.” It sounded like she was trying to convice herself more than anyone else. Then, she looked up at the rest of the group again. “In the original timeline, Rip lied to you. The reason why he chose you all was because, a hundred years from now, your lives have minimal effect on the recorded timeline. He needed your help without disturbing the history of 2166.”

Suddenly, Adams’ chuckle earlier made sense. The witch must have known the whole truth, after all, even if she apparently hadn’t come from Sharpe’s timeline.

Hall spoke up. “And you?” He asked, with his arms crossed.

“I lied too, but not that much. Being on this team... it’s made you important. Without you, Savage conquers the world and...” Sharpe let out a chuckle, just as humorless as any she’d had since this whole thing started. “It’s better if I don’t tell you now, but so much happens, even after Savage is gone.”

Finally, the time traveler rose from the steps, and, with her hands joined behind her back and her straight spine, she looked a little more composed than before, although nothing she did could ever manage to mask the pain in her eyes now that Sara knew it was there.

When she spoke again, she sounded like the gentlest person Sara had ever heard. “I told you that, each of you as individuals is very important to the survival of the world. I wasn’t lying about that, even if I lied about the rest.”

Then, she turned the back on the team and started walking to the corridor.

Sara took a step toward her, frowning. “Where are you going?” She asked when the other woman was already at the doorway.

Sharpe stopped walking but didn’t turn to her. “I’m giving you time to decide, now that you have all the information you need. You can choose what to do with it.” Her voice was steady, and, not seeing her face, Sara could _almost_ believe her composure.

Snart chimed in, tilting his head and crossing his arms. “Didn’t you just say you need us?”

“I did, but I won’t force you to help me. That’s up to you.” The time traveler replied. “I’ll end up facing Savage either way.” She moved to walk away again, but Ray’s voice stopped her.

“Alone?” He sounded worried, and Sara could understand why. She didn’t know much about this Vandal Savage guy, nothing beyond what Sharpe had told her, but he didn’t seem to be someone who should be underestimated.

Sharpe's last words before she left the room echoed in Sara's mind long after the time traveler left, with Adams right behind her. “It's not like I still have anything else to lose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this chapter was huge. it has more than 8k words. still, I hope you've enjoyed it
> 
> as always, I'll be annoying and ask you to tell me what you think. I always love hearing (reading, in this case) your opinions. oh, and tell me if there are any mistakes so I can correct them.
> 
> also, you'll know more about nora's presence very soon. as for her new name, her mother's full name is ruvé adams. the changed surname will play a part in the future
> 
> one more thing: pay attention to the chapter title. this story will be mostly from sara's point of view, but some others might pop up from time to time, like (mostly) ava's. make sure to check the title so you don't get confused
> 
> that's it, I guess. thank you so much for reading, really. it means a lot for me. I hope you've liked this chapter. I really do
> 
> see ya!


	3. Sara III

Sara sat on a box in the cargo bay; her body leaning on the cold wall behind her, her arms crossed, her head down. Her mind kept replaying the recent conversation: uncovering Sharpe’s lie, hearing the time traveler’s story, seeing the undeniable heartbreak in those blue eyes.

The idea of existing in an altered timeline was still foreign to her, but, even then, it wasn’t so hard to believe, not after everything she’d seen – Sara had died, been resurrected, had her soul restored. Not much could surprise her nowadays, even if _this_ was still a bit hard to wrap her head around.

She could feel that familiar cold seeping under her skin, drifting at the edges of her consciousness, as some part of her still raged at being lied to – still demanded retribution. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to act on it, or to doubt what Sharpe had said.

If only because no one could fake the look Sara had seen in the time traveler’s eyes.

The main issue remained. Sharpe had lied, and maybe – _probably_ – she would do it again. It didn’t change the fact that the world was in danger, or it would be. Time was becoming a difficult notion to understand, but that much was still clear.

And maybe it was ridiculous for Sara to care about what would happen to the world decades after she and everyone she’d ever loved died, maybe it shouldn’t matter. But, somehow, _it did_.

Because Laurel had said that she could be a hero in the light, and Sara wanted that. Perhaps it was foolish to think that a monster like her could be a hero, but didn’t she owe it to herself to try? Did she not owe it to Laurel, to her parents, to the people who believed in her and-?

The characteristic sound of the Atom suit’s energy blasts yanked Sara from her thoughts, and her eyes snapped to the other people in the cargo bay.

“Watch it!” Rory shouted at Ray, glaring at the man who had accidentally fired at his feet. He sat on a box of his own, beside Snart and not far from Sara, holding his strange fire gun.

Ray was quick to apologize. “Sorry!” He raised one hand in surrender, as the other still held some weird part of his weird suit. Then, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “Sorry.”

Rory grunted something unintelligible and went back to tampering with his strange flamethrower, leaving the silence to reign in the room. It didn’t last long, however, as Ray broke it once again.

“Are you still giving this a second thought?” The ex-CEO questioned, taking a short look at each of the three people in the room with him. Sara raised an eyebrow at him, and the man went on. “I mean, nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed.” Snart interjected, gazing at Ray with a look that bordered on mocking. “In case you failed to understand, the reason why we were chosen is because we are nobodies.”

Ray shrugged, seeming to either not notice or not care about Snart’s tone. “Perhaps at first, when that Rip Hunter guy recruited us in the original timeline. But the timeline Ava comes from is very different. She has seen the future, and we _matter_. We really do.”

He still sounded just as hopeful as he did at the beginning, if not more, and again Sara envied him for that. The ex-CEO didn’t have to think twice, didn’t need to reconsider his role; he didn’t need to talk himself into staying. He simply believed, and it seemed to be enough for him.

“Don’t you want that?” He went on, his eyes shining with confidence, and turned to Sara. “To be more than a lost assassin?” Then, he dragged his gaze to the pair of convicted felons on the other side of the room. “To be more than a pair of good-for-nothing criminals?”

Rory looked at him with a sardonic smirk. “I can live with that.”

“Well, I can’t.” Ray replied, and his face turned solemn as he looked down. “Spent my whole life working to be something greater by becoming something smaller, but there was still some part of me that feared that being the Atom would be as insignificant as an actual atom.”

He breathed out a brief chuckle, and Sara heard the wonder that radiated from the sound. The man then looked up, and the ex-assassin saw a small smile tugging at his lips.

“But it isn’t.” He seemed a little breathless when he spoke, as if the marvel had pushed the oxygen out of his lungs. “It really isn’t.”

Sara averted her gaze.

 _A lost assassin_. That was what Ray had called her, and he wasn’t wrong. Sara had been lost for a long time, even before she died – even before the Queen’s Gambit. She hadn’t lied to Laurel when she said that she was still picking up the pieces, even if she had not revealed just how many pieces she had yet pick up.

The soft sound of light footsteps coming from the stairs caught her attention, and Sara saw Adams appear on the doorway just as Snart broke the silence. “Sharpe lied before.” He said, unimpressed. “What makes you think she didn’t do it again?” He asked, keeping his eyes on Ray.

It felt like Sara had been the only one who had noticed Adams’ arrival, and the other woman stood at the entrance, with her arms crossed as she heard Snart’s words.

Finally, the newcomer made her presence known.

“She didn’t.” Adams stated, her green eyes blazing, and the three men startled at the sound of her voice. The witch, for her part, kept her gaze trained on Snart, who was quick to school his features and get rid of the surprise that had settled there for a second.

He tilted his head to the side, staring at the newcomer. “Of course, because she has such a reliable track record.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he rose from his seat. “Sharpe is a liar and has been one since she recruited us for this mission. And, you see, lying is a difficult habit to break.”

Adams uncrossed her arms and took a step towards the man. “Maybe for you. But you never even got in the habit of being honest, to begin with.” She raised an eyebrow. “Right?”

“I can’t say I have.” Snart shrugged, unaffected. “But your dear Ava was willing to let us risk our lives for a lie. I wouldn’t say that she’s much better than me.” He said, and his little smirk stretched a bit.

Sara watched Adams’ hands fist, and she felt something heavy in the air – _magic_. The witch took another step towards Snart and, despite the fury radiating from her in waves, there was a sardonic smile on her face.

“Do you remember my offer to push you through a portal to hell?” She raised an eyebrow, holding Snart’s gaze. “It’s still very much valid.” Finally, her smile vanished, and the look in those verdant eyes promised bloodshed. “Say another thing about Ava and I’ll make good on it.”

Sara’s eyebrows came together as she watched the pair thoughtfully – Adams’ was too big a threat for such a small act. The witch seemed to have little or no tolerance for anything that’d minimally question Sharpe’s character. It was indeed strange, even for a so-called best friend.

The ex-assassin tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “You’re very protective of her.” It wasn’t a question; she didn’t need that particular answer.

Adams turned to her and scoffed. “You’d be protective of the person who saved your life, too.”

Sara’s eyebrows shot up for a second before she forced herself to school her features. That wasn’t what she had expected to hear, although she didn’t know _what_ she had expected at all.

“Saved your life?” Ray repeated before Sara could voice her newfound questions, and he sounded just as surprised as the ex-assassin felt.

Adams averted her gaze and sighed as, slowly, every sign of mockery and aggression left her face. She crossed her arms again, still unwilling to meet the eyes of any of the four people who watched her.

“My father wasn’t a good man.” The witch started, speaking with the gentlest intonation Sara had heard from her since meeting the other woman. “It took me a long time to admit it, but he wasn’t.” She took a deep breath, seeming to force herself to continue. “He killed all my friends and handed me over to some cult so they could sell my soul to a demon.”

That... wasn’t what Sara had expected, at all. It sounded crazy, nothing more than the plot of some ludicrous horror movie, and the ex-assassin almost laughed – _almost_.

But Sara was a resurrected woman, and she had seen the woman in front of her use magic. Adams’ story wasn’t as hard to believe as it should’ve been, and perhaps that was what made it all so sad.

The witch, for her part, went on. “Ava found me at the asylum where the order locked me up. She said...” She trailed off and once again took a deep breath. “She said I shouldn’t have to go through that. I suppose no one saved me in her timeline.”

Sara studied Adams’ face carefully – it was blank, emotionless, but the witch’s verdant eyes were like a storm. The ex-assassin didn’t know if she should classify that look as furious or heartbroken. Maybe neither, maybe both.

“How old were you?” Ray asked, his words not more than a soft whisper.

Adams didn’t look at him as she replied. “Fourteen.”

Sara swallowed but remained otherwise nonchalant, at least on the outside.

She tried not to imagine a fourteen years-old Eleanor Adams trapped in a dirty, darkened room in an asylum run by mad men. It wasn’t a pretty picture, and Sara struggled to ban it from her mind, if only because she’d rather not imagine _what else_ those people could have done to a kid.

Her jaw clenched against her will, because Adams had been _so young_. Younger than Sara herself had been when the Queen’s Gambit sunk, when her life changed forever.

The ex-assassin kept her gaze trained on the witch, who then continued her story. “Ava saved me, took me somewhere safe, where the order couldn’t find me. She couldn’t stay with me, of course, but she’d come back every month to visit, to make sure I was okay.”

The smile that appeared on Adams’ face was small, a slight rise of the corner of her lips, and Sara didn’t doubt its simple frankness.

Ray then chimed in, frowning in confusion. “Wait, she met you when you were a kid? But-”

Adams was quick to interrupt him, her small smile still in place. “Time travel.” She shrugged. “It must have been just a few weeks for her.”

The ex-CEO nodded, silent, and Sara spoke next. “What happened then?” She didn’t know exactly when she became so invested in this story, but it didn’t change the fact that she was.

Again, Adams shrugged. “When I became an adult, I asked to come with her. Ava was reluctant, said something about me deserving to live a normal life.” Which only enforced the witch’s theory of not being saved in Sharpe’s original timeline.

It made Sara’s blood feel like ice in her veins and, again, she struggled to not let her mind wander to what else those people could have done to a defenseless child.

Adams, for her part, simply rolled her eyes and went on. “As if my life had ever been normal. So, I insisted, and she ended up caving.” She shrugged again and remained silent, offering no further indication that she still had something to say.

Sara watched Adams, searching for whatever micro-expressions she could find. The affection that inhabited the witch’s green eyes was nothing less than earnest, and it made sense, considering the story Sara had just heard.

Sharpe wasn’t simply Adams’ best friend, but someone who had taken care of the witch when she was growing up. The brunette’s unwavering willingness to defend her was a given.

The silence that had settled in the cargo bay after Adams stopped talking was short-lived, for Rory broke it, crossing his arms. “And how is any of that important to us?” His question was as tactless as everything about him seemed to be, especially after what they had just heard.

Adams pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something to herself. Then, she looked up, only for her gaze to rest on each person who watched her for a short while, and she snorted.

“You know, I grew up hearing stories about you guys.” She said, and Sara’s eyebrows shot to her hairline in surprise. The witch either did not notice or did not care, for she went on. “The Legends were my favorite superheroes when I was a kid. Ava would tell me stories about the White Canary and the Atom and so many others, and I loved them, but I didn’t understand how much they, how much _you_ , meant to her until I got older.”

Sara’s breath got caught in her throat as soon as she heard Adams mention the _White Canary_ , the name her sister had given her. She had to have heard wrong, because the witch had just called her a hero. Sara, a hero?

She expected to perhaps pay for some of her sins, make up for some of the red in her ledger even if she could never clear it, but to actually become a hero worthy of someone’s admiration?

Unlikely, if not downright impossible.

Her eyes snapped to Adams again as the witch continued her speech. “Ava is a good person. More than that, she is a self-sacrificing idiot. She won’t demand your help, even though she knows she can’t defeat Savage on her own. She’s going to respect your wishes if you decide to leave, because she cares about you far more than she cares about the timeline.”

Adams’ green eyes landed on Sara when she spoke, and the ex-assassin held her gaze. There was something in there, something she could not quite put her finger on, and that bothered her beyond belief, as if Adams knew something about Sara that the blonde herself didn’t.

The witch went on, still keeping her attention on Sara. “She will go alone, and she will die. I can’t let that happen. Ava’s not going to ask for your help, but I’m asking. For her.”

Adams only averted her gaze when Ray spoke up, rising from his seat. “You have it.” He smiled, gentle and eager to help, and surprisingly the witch smiled back at him.

Sara, for her part, sighed. She asked herself what Laurel would do in this situation, and it was far too easy for her to figure out the answer.

Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world.

Maybe Sara could take a page out of her sister’s book.

When Adams turned to her again, Sara shrugged. “It seems to me that the world still needs saving. I’m not going to let Savage destroy my home.”

The witch nodded, and Sara watched the quick flash of surprise that crossed her face turn into the same annoying knowing look from before.

Finally, Adams turned to Snart and Rory, who remained silent, with their arms crossed. Snart did not trust Sharpe, that much was clear, and it seemed unlikely that he and his partner would remain on the ship if he wasn’t convinced.

Sara chimed in, catching their attention. “Even if Sharpe _is_ lying, isn’t this mission about changing the future? I mean, if we have the power to change the world, don’t you think we have the power to decide our own fate?”

It was a bit of a stretch, and she knew it. Between two different timelines, it seemed that hers and everyone’s fate was already set; either as a nobody or as a wannabe hero.

However, her words seemed to be enough for Snart, and he smirked. “For better or for worse.”

Ray smiled, well-disposed. “That’s a very good point.”

Adams nodded at each of them before turning to the stairs again, gesturing for the group to follow. Sara rose from her seat and, along with the three men, trailed after the witch.

The brunette guided them through the corridors, where they found both Stein and Jackson heading to the bridge as well. The duo joined the rest of the group as they walked to their destination, and they all arrived at the bridge just in time to hear Sharpe speaking.

“... time wants to happen. It’s yet another thing we’ll be up against.” She sounded tired as she said those words to Saunders and Hall, both of whom were already in the room with her.

The time traveler turned to the group of newcomers as soon as she noticed their arrival, eyebrows rising to her hairline in quiet surprise.

Ray was the one to break the silence, sounding just as confident as he had been before, and crossed his arms. “Whether it wants to happen or not, we are going to change time, erase Savage’s future, and earn our rightful place in history.”

“Dr. Palmer is correct.” Stein spoke up. “We may not become the people we were in your future, Captain Sharpe, but we are going to decide our own fates.”

Hall was the one who spoke next, seeming as serious as he always did. “I don’t give a damn about that, as long as we end Savage once and for all.” Beside him, Saunders simply nodded.

“I can get down with that.” Jackson said, exchanging a quick look with Stein.

The professor then dragged his gaze to the two criminals in the bridge, whom had remained silent. “And our malcontents?” He asked, not seeming to disapprove of them as much as he had before.

Rory shrugged. “I like killing people.”

“We’re in.” Snart stated just before turning to look at Sharpe again. “For now.”

Adams, for her part, walked to stand beside Sharpe, her already familiar smirk in place once again. “Oh, look at that.” She raised an eyebrow in the most mocking manner. “You’re not as bad as I’d thought.”

Sara rolled her eyes in response – it seemed like the witch had quickly settled back into her usual self. Then, the ex-assassin turned to Sharpe, raising an eyebrow.

“So, how do we find this guy?” She asked, crossing her arms.

Sara kept her gaze trained on Sharpe, and the watery smile that showed on the taller blonde’s lips was perhaps the happiest the ex-assassin had seen on her, broken as it was. Then Sharpe let out a soft chuckle, smile still in place.

“It’s been almost ten years since I read the reports on this mission. I unfortunately don’t remember it well.” She asserted. “But Professor Boardman had a theory. Gideon’s already plotted a course.”

**\- LOT -**

When the ship landed, Sara could see the blue, cloud-free sky on the outside through the viewport. She unstrapped herself and rose from her seat just as everyone else did.

Sharpe was the first to break the silence. “Okay, we’re here. Gideon, you know what to do.”

Snart and Rory were talking amongst themselves, but Sara paid them no mind. Instead, she turned to Hall at the sound of his voice, since his question was one whose answer she wanted.

“Where exactly is here?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“We’re still in 1975, right?” Saunders interjected before Sharpe could answer.

“Yes.” The time traveler nodded. “October 1975. Norway.” She informed as she walked towards the adjoining room in order to get something from the table on the middle of it. Sara’s gaze trailed after her and remained on her even as Snart spoke.

“Sounds like a vacation.” He commented, if a bit snarky.

“I suppose.” Sharpe shrugged, with her back still turned to the team as she searched for something amidst the multiple books laid on the wooden table. “I’m more of an Aruba girl, personally.” She let out a short chuckle that sounded the slightest bit melancholic before turning to the team again, with a small red book in hand.

“That’s Aldus’ notebook.” Hall stated, taking a step towards Sharpe as the woman made her way back to the bridge.

The time traveler swallowed, not bothering to mask her sadness. “Yeah. He theorized that Savage might be here. If he’s right, we may be able to capture him.”

Sara watched as Sharpe forced herself to turn to Saunders and Hall again. The time traveler closed the distance between them and offered the small book to Hawkgirl.

“Here, I believe you should have this.” She said, holding out the book until the other woman took it from her hand. “I’m really sorry about what happened to him.”

Saunders stared at the red book in her hands, her fingers tightening around the small object. Then, she looked up to Sharpe, who remained still in front of her.

“Can’t we just go back and save Aldus?” Hawkgirl asked, and the pain in her face was as clear as the day.

Hall spoke right after her, his arms crossed. “He was our son.”

Sharpe let out a deep breath and looked away. “I wish we could, I really do, but we can’t go back and change events in which we participated. It’s...” She swallowed. “Bad.” Her intonation hinted at something far worse than just ‘ _bad_ ’, in Sara’s not in the slightest humble opinion.

Ray chimed in before the ex-assassin could do so, curiosity radiating from him. “Did it happen in your timeline?”

“It did, and it’s best if we can postpone it for a few more years, although I’d rather if it just didn’t happen at all.” Sharpe released a nervous chuckle and exchanged a quick look with Adams, as the witch stood at her side again. “You don’t want to deal with _that_ and Savage at the same time, trust me.”

Sara filed that small piece of information away for future questioning and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the central console. She kept her gaze trained on Sharpe as she spoke.

“Forgetting possible catastrophes for a second, shouldn’t we figure out what Savage is doing here in Norway?” She asked, sounding entirely too nonchalant.

Sharpe nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips, and walked to stand in front of the central console and on the middle of the group. “That’s easy. There’s a big meeting of terrorists and fringe groups looking to buy some illegal weapons.”

“Now that sounds like a vacation.” Rory interjected, smirking. He was the only one still sitting in his chair.

“Arms dealers and terrorists aren’t exactly our kind of people.” Snart leaned forward so as to rest his elbows on the central console, like Sara did. “But they’re the next best thing.”

Sara felt eyes on her, and she dragged her gaze to Snart to see him watching her with a smirk. His interest wasn’t the least subtle, and she wondered what she’d do about it.

Her attention turned to Hall when Hawkman spoke again, as nonchalant as ever. “Well, looks like you and your lapdog get to earn your keep.” He stated.

“I’m no one’s lapdog, Birdman.” Rory deadpanned, staring at Hall with a blank face.

Saunders interjected before Hall could give the criminal a reply. “So, what exactly does one wear to a black-market arms bazaar, anyway?” She asked, with her arms crossed and the hint of a smile on the corner of her lips.

Sharpe looked at her with a gentle smile. “That’s no trouble.” She turned to Adams, who was still silent beside her. “Nora, can you take them to the fabrication room?”

The witch merely nodded, and Sharpe walked to the steps that led to the adjourning room and sat there, like Adams had been doing when Sara first saw her.

“Go.” The time traveler said. “I’ll wait here.”

Before anyone had the time to respond, Adams started walking out of the room. “C’mon. I won’t go looking for you if you get lost.” She stated, sarcasm dripping from her voice once again.

The witch showed little patience as she guided the group through the corridors, towards the room she had shown Sara, Snart, Rory and Jackson earlier, before Chronos’ attack. She explained how to use the strange device in short, impatient words, like she had done before, and helped everyone choose their clothes amid small snarky comments.

Adams was a piece of work, and an amusing one – Sara had to give her that.

The witch guided them back to the bridge after everyone got ready, not longer bothering to speak on the way there, and Sara saw that Sharpe was still there, waiting for them to come back.

Sharpe hadn’t moved from the steps. However, the time traveler had shed her grey coat and dark-blue blazer – both had been left on the floor beside her –, leaving her with only that white button-up shirt she had worn under the two pieces of clothing.

Her left sleeve had been folded up above the elbow, and Sharpe had just removed the needle that had been buried in her vein. The skin there was reddish, with several stops of past injections, and the veins were darkened, almost pitch black.

“Is that your serum thing?” Sara asked before she could refrain herself, watching Sharpe put down the silver syringe she had been holding.

“Yes.” Sharpe replied between clenched teeth, and Sara saw that her jaw had tightened. The time traveler seemed in pain, and the ex-assassin wondered how much harm the other woman inflicted on herself in order to continue existing. “It’s not very pleasant, but I ran out of time.”

“I thought you’d be safe as long as you stayed on the Waverider.” Saunders interjected, frowning as she watched Sharpe roll down her left sleeve again, covering her injured arm.

“Only if the Waverider is at the temporal zone.” Sharpe explained; her jaw still clenched, and her words wavering a bit – not enough for anyone other than Sara notice, maybe. “But that’s not very important now.” She rose from the steps, and her usual polite smile appeared on her face, strained as it was. “I see that you’re ready.”

“Yes.” Ray replied, not unkindly. “Now, all we have to do is work up a plan.”

“Got a lot of experience infiltrating criminal gatherings?” Snart interjected, gazing at the ex-CEO with a mild-mocking look. “Didn’t think so. I’m calling the shots.” He then turned to Sharpe, with a challenging look on his face.

The time traveler seemed unaffected by it. “Snart’s in charge, then.” She stated, and Sara couldn’t identify a single trace of defiance or annoyance in her face. “I’ll stay on the ship and work on the repairs, since I’m the only one who can. The Waverider should be ready in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

Snart tilted his head to the side. “And you’re simply handing over the reins? Just like that?”

“You pointed out that I don’t trust you. Maybe I should start, if we want this to work.” The woman shrugged, and Sara found nothing on her face to indicate that she wasn’t being sincere. “Honestly, I don’t know much more about this mission than you do.”

Jackson took a step toward her. “What do you mean? Didn’t you come from a future in which we succeeded?” He asked.

Sharpe let out a sigh. “Yes, but, as I said, I wasn’t with the team back then. All my knowledge on this mission came from some files I read years ago, and I don’t remember those as well as I should, especially since I lost some pieces of my memory.”

“That’s convenient.” Snart commented, and Sara was reminded that, despite her having convinced him to stay, the criminal still didn’t trust the time traveler.

She decided to interject with her own doubts. “What do you mean?” Sara asked, staring at Sharpe with questioning eyes.

The taller blonde looked down. “I mean exactly what I said.” She took a deep breath. “When your timeline starts to disappear, so do your memories of it. The serum protects me, but I took a bit too long to take my first dose, and my most superficial memories were the first to go.”

It made sense, even if it made things a bit more complicated. Sara searched Sharpe's face for any sign that the other woman was lying, but again she found none.

If the time traveler was being insincere, then she was the best liar Sara had ever encountered.

“It can’t get more superficial than a file you’ve read almost a decade ago.” She retorted, if a little dryly, repeating some of the words she’d just heard.

Sharpe’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Exactly. But, well, Rip did it the first time with no guarantees that he’d succeed. Let’s hope it won’t be different this time, although there are some things I don’t plan to let happen.”

“Like what?” Rory asked, although he didn’t sound all that much interested.

Sharpe averted her gaze instead of answering, and a flash of apprehension crossed her face. Then, as she opened her mouth to finally respond, Adams spoke first.

“I think she means the deaths.” The witch had an all too innocent smile on her face, bordering on the most sardonic smirk Sara had ever seen.

“Nora!” Sharpe startled, staring at the witch like a deer caught in headlights, at the same time Sara repeated “Deaths?” in a shocked voice she didn’t quite have the time to control.

Sharpe glared at Adams, who simply shrugged, before turning to the rest of the team, who watched her with wide eyes.

“It’s not important right now.” She stated, and Sara didn’t know if the time traveler sounded more tired or nervous.

“How is it not important?” Jackson interjected, something akin to terror settling in his voice. “Are we going to die?”

Sharpe was fast to respond, raising both hands in surrender. “No one’s dying on this mission. And no one’s going to die after it, not as long as I can prevent it.” She let her arms fall to her sides and a sigh made its way past her lips.

Something settled into the time traveler’s eyes – a blazing resolve, unlike anything Sara had ever seen.

“I _won’t_ let any of you die.” She stated, her voice like steel. “That much I can promise.”

Perhaps it was the unmistakable fear that crossed Adams’ eyes, or what the witch had said earlier; ‘ _more than that, she’s a self-sacrificing idiot_ ’. Perhaps it was seeing the broken look on Sharpe’s eyes a few hours ago, or hearing the time traveler’s bitter words; ‘ _it’s not like I still have anything else to lose_ ’.

Either way, Sara found herself believing the woman, even if she most probably shouldn’t.

Snart, for his part, wasn’t as naïve as Sara was feeling, and he spoke with acid sarcasm. “And you expect us to just believe you?” He asked, staring at the taller blonde.

“Expect? No.” Sharpe shrugged. “But I have hope. I live on it nowadays.” She then let out a brief sigh, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “We can talk about this when you get back. I’ll answer whatever questions you might have, as long as it’s not about my personal life.”

When she finished talking, Adams was quick to fill the silence before anyone else could.

“Now, this is the only information we have on Savage’s whereabouts.” The witch stated, and her gaze met every person in the room with unhidden defiance, as if challenging anyone to argue with her. No one did. “C’mon. We can’t waste it.”

She started walking out of the room, and, as she did it, Sharpe spoke again. “I’ll be on the comms. If you need anything from me, just ask.” Those were the last words Sara heard before she followed Adams to the corridor, the rest of the team trailing behind her.

She still had many questions – those seemed to pile up as she spent more time with Sharpe –, but said questions could wait. At the moment, Sara had a future dictator to defeat.

**\- LOT -**

The place where the arms sale would take place seemed like a kind of shed, and there were many different people to be found in the surrounding area, mostly guards. Sara’s eyes landed on a man in a suit just ahead, and she saw him collect an orange card from the people in front of him before allowing them to enter.

This had just gotten a little more complicated.

“Looks like they’re checking credentials.” She stated, both for the people listening to her through the comms and for the group that walked with her to the shed – meaning Snart, Rory, Adams, and Stein, with a shrunk Ray inside of the latter’s pocket. “And we don’t have any.”

She looked at Rory when the man replied. “We got this. Trust us.”

The group continued to walk, and Snart bumped into a passing man. “Excuse you.” He said as he pushed the other guy away from himself, and Sara saw an orange card now in his hand. Rory had not lied, it seemed.

The ex-assassin smirked as she walked with the men until they all stopped in front of the guard at the entrance, a bald guy in a wrinkled suit.

“IDs.” The guard ordered, and Snart handed him the orange card he had just stolen. The man then read the name written on it before turning to Captain Cold with a mocking look. “You don’t look like an Amhad Ahmed Izz-Al-Din.”

Because, of course, Snart could not have chosen someone who looked a little more like him. Sara had to suppress a groan, and she exchanged a look with Adams, who seemed annoyed. The witch’s fingers twitched, as if she were preparing to cast a spell.

Snart’s voice stopped her from doing so. “I’m Arab. On my mother’s side.” He said, but his smirk was a bit too sarcastic to not sell him out, as Sara was fast to notice. He was a decent liar, but not perfect.

The guard opened his mouth to retort, and Sara saw Adams start to raise her hand, when Stein, of all people, interjected.

“Is there a problem?” The professor walked over to the guard, and Sara could no longer watch his expressions as his back was turned to her. “I don’t like delays. Do you know who we are?” Okay, so he was surprisingly convincing at sounding arrogant and entitled.

Not everything was lost, then.

Beside Sara, Adams let her hand drop once again as Stein continued to speak. “My associates and I are the operational arm of Scimitar. The Lombardo Square bombing, 1963. The murder of Henri Tyran, Canada, 1970. Konig Airport Massacre, 1971. Bottom line? You don’t want to doubt me.”

Honestly, Sara no longer knew if Stein simply knew some highly unusual trivia facts or if he was just bullshitting his way into the arms sale. Either way, she had to press her lips together to refrain from laughing, especially after she heard Adams’ mutter ‘ _what the hell?_ ’ beside her.

Snart then got the card back from the guard, who stood aside to let them pass, and Sara saw Rory walk over to Stein and put an arm around his shoulders.

“ _You’re a special kind of crazy. I like it._ ” She heard Heatwave mutter through the comms, as they were a bit too far from each other for her to hear him properly.

“We’re in.” Adams stated through the comms once the entire group made their way inside.

Sara looked around, assessing the situation. The shed was full, just like the outside of it had been, and there were even more guards, not accounting for the other groups inside. If everything didn’t go according to Snart’s plan, they’d have a potentially problematic fight in their hands.

Jax – as he had asked to be called – spoke through the comms. “ _Why don’t I get to play terrorist?_ ” He asked. The guy had been tasked to stay on the roof with Saunders and Hall. A backup, in case they needed one.

“This is just kidnapping. No need for nuclear fireworks.” Snart stated. “Savage will be one of the buyers. Once we get eyes on, hang back. We’ll boost him once this is all over.”

It was a sufficiently solid plan, and, as agreed, Sara and Adams split from the other three to cover a larger area. The ex-assassin had seen a picture of Vandal Savage before leaving the Waverider, and so she knew what to look for, as did the witch who walked with her.

“I don’t like any of this.” Adams murmured as she scanned the place, just as Hall’s voice sounded through the comms.

“ _Any sign of him?_ ” Hawkman asked.

“No.” The same answer first came from Sara and Adams, then from Stein, and finally from Snart.

Sara continued to search the place, but despite seeing some fairly similar faces, none were the one she was looking for. She turned to Adams, who was looking around with a frown on her face.

“I don’t see him here.” The witch stated, and Sara nodded.

“Let’s get the boys and get out of here.” Professor Boardman had been mistaken, it appeared, and they’d have to wait for another opportunity to capture Savage, if another one really did appear.

Sara and Adams had just began looking for their teammates amidst the crowd when a man climbed onto the platform that had been built on the middle of the shed. Blue eyes widened a bit in surprise, as did a pair of green eyes.

“If I could have your attention.” Vandal Savage of all people spoke, with his voice loud and clear so that anyone could hear him. No one else said a word, leaving his to be the single voice to break the silence. “Thank you all for coming. I promise, it will be well worth your time.”

“ _Seems we were wrong about Savage._ ” Stein said over the comms. “ _He’s not one of the buyers._ ”

Sara swallowed, still staring at the immortal man not too far from her. “He’s the seller.”

“Shit.” Adams muttered beside her, and the ex-assassin couldn’t possibly agree more.

Two men moved some kind of bomb onto the podium, and Savage laid a hand on the gray-painted surface. “This is a variable-yield nuclear warhead, capable of producing a blast equivalent to one megaton of TNT.”

Sara clenched her jaw. This entire plan had just taken a turn for the worse.

The other man standing on the platform, probably the dealer, spoke up. “Shall we begin our biding at $100 million?” The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, and Sara turned to see a man with a gun aimed upwards. “$100 million. Do I hear $105 million?”

Another gunshot echoed through the shed, this time coming from a man dressed in white.

“Shit.” Adams muttered beside Sara, and the ex-assassin turned to the witch in time to see all the color draining from her face as she stared at the man who had just shot. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Sara grabbed her arm in order to catch her attention, but Adams’ eyes remained on the man. “Hey, Adams, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” She asked, but the other woman continued to look like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at the white-clad man.

“ _Nora, what’s going on?_ ” Sharpe asked through the comms, just as the dealer announced the new price after a new shot was heard.

“He’s here.” It was all the witch said, and it seemed to be all the time traveler needed to hear.

Sharpe’s response came soon enough. “ _Shit._ ”

Another gunshot echoed through the room, and the dealer was speaking again when Sara grabbed Adams by her arms and forced the witch to look at her.

“Adams, what’s going on? Who’s here?” Sara asked, struggling to keep any sign of aggression or impatience from her voice. Because just _who the hell_ could the woman in front of her know in the ‘70s Norway? “Adams!”

The woman still wouldn’t respond, and Sara was just about to ask her again when she noticed the silence that had settled into the room. She let go of Adams and turned to the podium again in time to see the dealer announce the new price.

“That’s $125 million.” He, and Sara noticed with dread settling on the pit of her stomach that the dealer was looking at Snart, Stein and Rory.

She swallowed, tapping on her comms. “Um, what’s going on?”

“Going once...” The dealer started, never taking his eyes from the trio.

The response came not from any of the three men, but from Sharpe. “ _I think it’s what’s not going on that is the problem. They bid, and nobody is covering it._ ”

“Going twice...” The dealer went on, and so did the silence. “Sold!”

It seemed that nothing about this plan was destined to work. _Shit_.

“Ava, what do I do?” Adams asked, with a finger pressed against the comm on her ear. The witch still looked pale, her eyes wide, and it seemed that she hadn’t noticed much of what just happened.

“ _Just lay low. Make sure he doesn’t see you._ ”

Okay, so this was getting out of hand.

Sara dragged her gaze from her other teammates to the woman standing beside her. “Who?” Once more, she received no response, but she was having none of it this time. “Adams, what the hell is going on?”

The witch appeared to finally acknowledge her presence again, and she grabbed Sara’s arm. “I’ll explain later. Move.” It was all she said before she started pulling Sara to another part of the room, farther away from where the others were.

As she walked, Sara tapped her comms again, and the sound of Rory's voice filled her ears. “ _Yeah, the master race here is starting to bug me._ ”

Snart’s voice came next. “ _We’re just going to get our nuclear warhead and be on our way._ ”

“Not without paying first.” Sara heard the dealer retort from where he stood, still on the platform, holding his hands together in front of his body.

“ _Once we’ve validated that the warhead is operational._ ” Stein’s voice came through the comms, and even then it sounded trembling, nervous. This wasn’t going to end well. “ _Personally, I find it highly unlikely that you were able to accumulate enough fissionable material in this era to fashion a workable nuclear device._ ”

Sara screwed her eyes shut as soon as she heard the professor saying, ‘ _this era_ ’, as she didn’t need Sharpe’s following muttered curse to know that he had royally screwed up.

“ _Figure of speech._ ” Stein spoke again, and Sara had no doubt that it had been a reply to Savage.

The latter, for his part, turned his back on the three men in front of him and walked back onto the podium. Then, he turned to his audience.

“Change of plans.” He announced. “I’ll provide a 25% discount to the organization which brings me the heads of these men.” He pointed to Stein, Snart and Rory, and Sara muttered a curse under her breath.

Next thing she knew, everything had gone to hell.

“Adams!” Sara exclaimed, extending her hand to the witch, who produced her bo-staff out of thin air and threw it at her.

The men around them had started to run toward Stein, Snart and Rory, and so Sara hit the closest to her on the face with her staff, making him fall to the ground and grasp his now bloody nose. It was everything she had to do for some others to notice her presence and come for her too.

The guards surrounded her, and Sara found herself with her back pressed against Adams’.

She looked at the witch over her shoulder. “What, no magic?”

“I’m trying to lay low, remember?” Adams retorted just as a guard came towards her. She dodged his fist and punched him in the stomach, making him bend forward, and then she punched him in the nose, sending him backward and leaving him far enough to knock him out with a roundhouse kick.

Not completely useless in a fight, then.

Sara still wondered why exactly the witch had to lay low, but she filed that concern away for later considering. Instead, she kept herself busy with the four men that attacked her.

She spun her bo-staff, hitting one of the men in the head, then striking another in the legs, sending him to the ground. Then, she took the head of the one whom she had hit first and pulled it against her knee. He fell to the floor, moaning with his hands on his face.

The ex-assassin heard another coming from behind her, and she hit him on the forehead with one end of her staff before making the same movement but this time forward, hitting the man in front of her on the chest. He staggered backwards and she spun her staff which collided against the side of his head, sending him to the ground.

She then turned to the guy she’d hit in the legs before, as he had just gotten up. She waited for the man to come at her and, when she did, she split her staff in two batons and hit him in the ribs with one right before striking his head with the other. He stumbled back, and she used the opportunity to land a spinning kick to his face, sending his right to the floor, and the ex-assassin put her staff together again.

Sara heard another guard coming from behind her, and she spun around in time to strike him with her staff. However, before her weapon could hit him, the man went flying away from her, crashing against a nearby wall and the landing on the floor, unconscious.

Sara turned to Adams, who still had her hand raised. She was tempted to say she had him, because _she did_ , but instead settled for something else, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you were trying to lay low.”

The witch shrugged and elbowed the man who came from behind her. “Ava would have my head if I’d let you get hurt.” Sara frowned at that, confused, and opened her mouth to retort right as the other woman’s eyes went to something else. “Did he just-?” She was interrupted by another guard who tried to attack her.

Sara turned to see where she had been looking at, and she saw something that made her blood feel like ice in her veins. _Savage had activated the bomb_.

“He did.” The ex-assassin then turned to the witch, who had successfully knocked out her attacker. “C’mon.”

She started running towards the podium, with Adams right behind her. The witch seemed to have throw all caution to the wind, and she sent anyone who came near them flying away as they went to the platform and stood next to the freaking bomb.

Sara looked at the red numbers counting down. “Um, we got a nuclear bomb here.” She exchanged a look with Adams, who sent another bunch of guards flying backwards.

Ray came flying out of nowhere, already shrinking, and Sara watched he enter the bomb through a hole in the structure. Almost immediately, the numbers that had previously pointed to a bit over a minute soared to thirty seconds.

“Ray!” Sara startled. “What did you do?”

The ex-CEO got out of the bomb, already turning back to his normal size. He landed beside Sara.

“I didn’t do anything. It must have a failsafe.” He replied.

Sara looked at the countdown numbers for a short moment before turning to the witch nearby.

“Adams, do something!” She exclaimed, and the brunette looked at her with wide eyes.

“Hey, I’m a self-taught witch, and there’s nothing about nuclear bombs in my books!” She replied, just as Sharpe’s voice came through the comms again.

“ _Professor Stein, Mr. Jackson, it’s up to you!_ ” The captain said just before Firestorm appeared to take the bomb away.

Sara didn’t know if whatever the plan to get rid of the bomb was would work out, but she did not have much time to consider it as another group of guards started to make its way to the podium.

She had just knocked the gun out of one man’s hands and kicked another one in the head when a deafening sound reached her ears. Her entire body froze, and she looked at Adams and Ray, who were on the platform with her.

Had Stein and Jax-?

“ _They’re okay!_ ” Sharpe announced through the comms, relief bleeding out of her voice. “ _They’ve dealt with the bomb and they’re fine. Now, the rest of you, get the hell out of there!_ ”

As if Sara needed any incentive to do. She turned to the remaining man in front of her, once again splitting her staff in two batons.

Well, at least there was one less nuclear bomb in the planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is another 8k words chapter. I hope you enjoy it, truly
> 
> please, tell me what you think about it. I always love hearing (reading, but you got it) your opinions. and tell me if you see any typos or things like that. I didn't proof read it, but then again, I never do. I'm terrible, I know. I'm sorry.
> 
> next chapter will be sara's pov again (Sara IV), but the chapter after it should be an ava pov (Ava I), if everything goes according to the plan. sure, plans can change, but still. many things will be explained in that chapter, including if ava's lying about her memory problems (do y'all think she is?) and a little more about what happened to her legends
> 
> also, is it painfully obvious that I can't write fight scenes to save my life? because I can't. sorry about that
> 
> I think this is all. I'll reply to your wonderful comments tomorrow. I'm just tired and I don't want to write another word tonight. again, I hope you've liked the chapter, truly.
> 
> that's all, I guess
> 
> see ya!


	4. Sara IV

The way back to the Waverider was surprisingly quiet, but Sara had known that this wouldn’t last even before Ray spoke up, his voice dripping with some type of contained mockery that she didn’t think he’d be capable of.

“Well, I’m really glad you were the one calling the shots.” The ex-CEO stated, and Sara couldn’t see his face, but she’d bet that he was side-eying the man walking beside him toward the bridge.

“I had it under control until the professor started picking fights with the PLO.” Snart retorted, not any less irritated than Ray appeared to be.

“You let your ego endanger our entire mission.” Hall added; and his face turned to Stein he spoke, his deep voice carrying nothing more than cold displeasure.

The professor gasped before voicing his own defense. “No, Mr. Rory’s temper got completely out of control-”

“I thought we were friends, Professor.” The criminal in question interrupted him, speaking in that same nonchalant manner that seemed to be usual for him.

Stein opened his mouth to respond, but Saunders spoke before he could. “At least there’s one less nuclear bomb on the planet.” Hawkgirl stated, her nervous smile communicating that she wanted to end this conversation before it evolved into a full-blown argument.

“That doesn’t really make a lot of difference.” Adams retorted dryly, seeming less than interested in contributing to Saunders’ efforts to be diplomatic. The witch crossed her arms when she stood in her usual position beside Sharpe, who had been silent as she watched the almost-argument from where she stood, near the central console.

Sara walked to the parlor’s entrance, crossed her arms and let her back to lean against the metallic column behind her. From such angle, she could see the captain’s face perfectly, and she searched for something that could tell her what exactly the time traveler thought about all of this.

Sharpe raised her hands, catching the team’s attention. “Okay, that’s enough fighting. The mission failed, and we lost the element of surprise.” She scrunched her nose a bit, and it actually made her look kind of cute. “But blaming each other isn’t going to help us now.”

“You’re not even angry?” Jax asked, with both his eyebrows raised and eyes widened as he stared at the captain in surprise and some disbelief.

Sara couldn’t help but agree. Sharpe didn’t even appear annoyed at their abysmal failure, although her shoulders did seem a bit stiff. Just what would it take to make this woman lose her cool?

The captain, for her part, released a short-lived chuckle, and Sara could see a few traces of longing in the little grin that dwelled after. “Spend enough time with my Legends and you just learn to...” She trailed off, seeming to think for a bit before she shrugged. “Roll with the punches.”

She sounded so nonchalant, so unsurprised that things had gone south. It made Sara wonder if she knew that it would happen – and why she wouldn’t tell them if she did –, or if Sharpe was simply used to the team screwing things up.

Something about the nostalgia reflected Sharpe’s blue eyes told Sara that it was the latter.

The silence that had shortly settled in the bridge was broken when Hall spoke up. “Well, what are we waiting for?” He sounded impatient, in his cold, controlled manner. “Savage’s in Norway, so let’s find-”

“Unfortunately, we now have bigger problems than Savage.” Sharpe interrupted him, and the last remains of her small, fragile grin vanished, as did that longing look in her eyes. The time traveler took a deep breath and looked down, her hands tightening into fists over the console.

Sara’s brow creased in worry, and Saunders voiced her doubt before the ex-assassin could. “What could be a bigger problem than Savage?” Hawkgirl asked, not bothering to mask her dread as she exchanged a quick look with Hall.

Sharpe kept her head down, but that wasn’t enough to prevent Sara from seeing her wince. “While you were busy saving Norway from nuclear annihilation...”

“You’re welcome, Norway.” Rory interjected, his voice filled with mockery, but the time traveler ignored him in favor of continuing her explanation.

“... Savage sent one of his goons back to the site of the arms sale.” Sharpe said right before letting out a heavy sigh. Finally, she looked up, and her suddenly tired gaze landed on Ray. “He found a piece of your suit.”

Her hesitation to speak immediately made sense, especially considering that the guys of the team had been on the verge of starting an argument just a few minutes ago – but that was not what Sara focused on.

The ex-assassin frown deepened, and her mind raced with the possible repercussions of someone from the 70s finding s piece of technology that wasn’t common even on the time period she came from. She dragged her gaze to Ray.

The ex-CEO looked down at his arm and, even from such distance, Sara could see the loose wires that indicated that something was missing there. “Whoops.” Ray muttered.

“I am unversed in modern American colloquialisms.” The sudden sound of Gideon’s voice caught Sara off-guard, as she still wasn’t entirely used to the A.I. Even then, she could swear she’d heard the slightest hint of teasing in the omnipresent voice. “Is ‘Whoops’ slang for ‘Oh’?”

“You know it is, Gideon. No need to make him feel bad.” Sharpe smiled as she replied, but it was strained, clearly no more than a weak attempt to seem optimistic, and it was quick to vanish. She winced again. “The problem is that, armed with Ray’s future technology, Savage’s engineers can develop a weapon far more destructive than anything here in 1975.”

The captain took a step back just as an hologram appeared over the central console, like Gideon’s bluish head had at first. The image that formed was that of a city, with tall buildings in ruins, and red fire standing out among a sea of blue colors.

It reminded Sara of what Sharpe had shown them all, that first night – the destruction, the red sky. The sight pushed the oxygen out of her lungs, even before the time traveler started speaking again.

“This is Central City in 2016.” Sharpe explained, right before taking a deep breath. “Well, I don’t actually know if it’s called Central City anymore.” She added, looking away from the hologram.

Stein took a step towards the central console, a sorrowful look on his face. “There must be a way to correct this somehow.”

Sharpe chewed on her lower lip and exchanged a look with Adams before turning to the professor.

“There is.” She stated, and Sara pushed herself away from the wall behind her, taking a step closer to the captain. “It takes some time for any alteration in the timeline to cement. That’s how I could escape from mine.” Sharpe let out a sigh, and she dragged her gaze to Ray again. “I’d say we have until Savage’s team finishes working out the secrets of your technology and molds it to their own ends to stop them. If we can’t, this...” She pointed at the hologram. “This is history.”

Sara’s arms dangled at her sides, and she stared at the image of the ruined city. She was only half-aware of her teammates moving around her, and the Hawk couple passed by her, moving towards the parlor.

She had been to Central City, and, even if it wasn’t home, it hurt to see it destroyed in a way she’d never expected it to hurt. The ex-assassin had just taken one more step towards the central console when a new train of thought hit her hard, and she turned to Sharpe with wide eyes.

 _Her mother_. Her mother lived in Central City, and, while Laurel and her father didn’t, Sara wasn’t naïve enough as to allow herself to believe that Star City had received a better fate.

A lump formed in her throat, but she forced herself to speak through it. “My mom.” Sharpe’s gaze landed on her as soon as she spoke, and the sorrowful look that showed on the captain’s face said more than any number of words could. “My mom lives in Central City. Is she...? And Star City...?”

Sharpe’s sad eyes should’ve been enough of an answer, but nothing could have prepared Sara for the response that knocked the air out of her lungs. “I don’t know, Sara.”

The ex-assassin stood still, her blood feeling like ice in her veins. She stared at Sharpe, eyes wide, for what felt like a long time, hoping for a different answer. When it didn’t come, she dragged her gaze to Ray, and it was like she was drowning in freezing water all over again.

Like when the Queen’s Gambit sunk.

Like the Lazarus Pit.

Sara took a step toward the ex-CEO, her hands twitching as her body started to align itself for her to reach the knife that she kept in her boot shaft. She could feel the familiar cold spreading through her body, through her soul, and the voice in her mind was nearly deafening with rage.

Because her family was hurt, and it was _his_ fault.

She froze when a warm hand closed around her wrist, preventing her from getting her knife. Sara dragged her gaze to Sharpe, and the woman took a step to the side, still holding the ex-assassin’s wrist as she put herself in between Sara and Ray, like a shield.

Sara almost let out a bitter laugh. There was no one inside this ship who could stop her if she were to lose control. No one here could match her in a fight. Maybe Adams and her magic – _maybe_.

Hopefully.

She turned to look Sharpe in the eyes, her own full of mocking as she readied herself to state just how reckless – how _suicidal_ – would it be for the captain to challenge Sara, but her words died in her throat as soon as her gaze encountered the time traveler’s.

Because there wasn’t the slightest hint of fear in there, and Sara would have filed it away as simply Sharpe’s obvious lack of self-preservation, as Adams had implied, if not for the pity- no, that was not right. The _compassion_ she found in those blue irises – that also carried the barest hint of grey, Sara noticed then, as close as she was now. And it was mixed with something she couldn’t mistake for anything other than what it was: a warm, sincere fondness.

Sara extricated her wrist from Sharpe’s hold as soon as she saw it, because it made _no sense_. Her confusion muffled the dark sins that stained her soul for a moment as she struggled to understand, but no explanation came to her mind.

Relief and gratitude filled her when Snart broke the silence and dragged her out of her daze. “So, thanks to Raymond leaving a piece of his suit in the past, the rest of us do not have a future to go back to?”

Sharpe finally averted her gaze from Sara, instead looking at the convicted felon. “What did I say about playing the blame game?” She released a deep breath. “But yes, unless we do something to fix this, the future will become just a little bit harder to change. We only have one shot.”

Because, according to the time traveler, they couldn’t go back to events in which they participated, and, if they tried to change things and failed, they’d have blown up their one chance. It felt like a ton of lead had landed in Sara’s chest.

“Exactly how much time do we have?” Ray asked, keeping his head down.

The captain looked at him with a sad, sympathetic smile. “Until Savage’s weapons team reverse-engineers your technology, I suppose.”

“We’re talking about 1970’s terrorists with 21st century weapons.” Stein interjected; his voice full of severity. “And since we don’t know where Savage went-”

Out of the blue, Ray stood up, interrupting the professor. “We don’t have to find Savage. We just have to find that other piece of my suit.” His usual grin returned, full of optimism. “Which shrinks because it’s made of an alloy which mimics the intra-molecular compression of a dwarf star, thus emitting alpha particles.”

Sara wasn’t sure if she understood even 10% of what he said, but it didn’t matter. If it meant that they’d be able to resolve this situation and save her family, she was in.

“So, we just need to be able to track them.” Stein retorted. “Fortunately, alpha particles are highly trackable.” Now that was something Sara could get behind, even if she didn’t quite get the science part of it.

She turned to look at Ray again in time to see his face fall. “Yet unheard of in the 1970’s. It’s like we’re trapped in Stone Age.” He shook his head.

Professor Stein was quick to retort, annoyance bleeding out of his voice. “I’ll have you know that I was researching alpha particles when you were eating crayons.”

It was then that Snart rose from his seat and walked to the middle of the bridge. “So, to track that piece of Raymond’s super-suit, we just need to talk to...” He trailed off, pointing at the professor.

“Me.” Stein supplemented, and a smile came and vanished in his face. “25-year-old me, rather.”

Sharpe opened her mouth to say something, but, before she could utter a word, Hall and Saunders returned to the bridge.

“You two are just in time.” Hawkman stated, standing in front of the central console. “Show them, Kendra.”

Hawkgirl, for her part, walked toward Sharpe, holding out an old piece of paper for the captain to take. “Aldus was carrying this when he was killed.” Saunders spoke as the time traveled accepted her offer. “It’s a newspaper article about an Egyptian dagger.”

“The one Savage used to kill us.” Hall added.

Saunders went on shortly after. “In Central City, we learned that objects associated with the night of our deaths can also be used to kill Savage.” She explained.

Then, Hall spoke. “According to Aldus’ notes, the dagger needs to be wielded with an incantation inscribed on it.”

“What does this incantation say?” Stein asked.

Hall looked at Saunders and thus, so did Sara and everyone else.

The woman seemed to deflate a bit at the sudden attention. “I don’t know.” Her voice faltered as she answered. “I can’t read the language.”

Her boy-toy put a hand on her back. “It’s okay.” He reassured. “I’ll help you remember.” He then guided her out of the bridge, leaving the rest of the team behind.

The silence that settled into the room after their departure was short-lived, as Sharpe broke it with a heavy sigh of relief.

“Great.” She said, although her smile was still strained. “Now, the dagger...”

“You need someone to steal it.” Ray supplemented.

Snart, who had walked to stand beside Sharpe at some point, took the newspaper article from the captain’s hands. “Okay, fine. Whatever. I’ll do it.” He looked down so as to read what was written in the old-looking paper. “Article says it was purchased by some rich Russian douche bag named Sasha Mahnovski.”

He turned to look at Sharpe, who did nothing more than nod at him, before he started walking out of the bridge.

“I’ll go with you.” Ray asserted.

“I already got a partner.” Snart retorted without stopping walking, or even taking a look at the ex-CEO. Rory, for his part, had already started moving to follow him.

“Who I trust even less than you.” Ray’s response seemed to fall on deaf ears, as the pair of felons made their way off the bridge.

Sara moved her gaze to Sharpe at the sound of the captain’s sigh, and she saw her pinch the bridge of her nose for a second before looking at the ex-CEO. “Go with them. Just don’t take any of your future tech or be more careful with it if you do.” The time traveled said.

“Sure thing, Captain.” Ray nodded before quickly making his way out of the bridge.

Sharpe seemed to busy watching the ex-CEO leave, and so Sara saw Stein moving to another exit out of the corner of her eye first. It didn’t take long for the captain to notice his action, though.

“Where are you going, Professor?” Sharpe asked, her brow furrowing with something Sara could only presume to be worry.

“To break into my old lab and bring us back the particle tracker.” The professor replied, speaking as if it were nothing more than the obvious. His words made sense, surely, but Sara couldn’t help but think there’d be a simpler solution to their little problem.

The ex-assassin pointed a thumb at the witch standing not far from her, silent. “Can’t Adams just track these particle things with some spell?” She asked, and the referred brunette rolled her eyes.

“You actually do think magic is just science with no rules, don’t you?” Adams deadpanned. “And stop with this Adams thing. I told you, it’s Nora.”

Sharpe ignored their bickering, instead keeping her attention at the professor. “That’s a good plan, but, please, take Jax, Lance and Nora with you, to act as your intermediaries. And try to keep the interacting with your past self to a minimum.” She winced a bit. “It doesn’t usually go well.”

“Of course.” Stein said to her before turning his attention to the only other three remaining people in the room. “Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for an answer before walking to the corridor that appeared to be the shortest way to the fabrication room, as Ada- Nora had explained earlier. Jax was quick to follow him.

“Setting a course for the United States, Captain.” Gideon announced.

Sara sighed and followed the man out of the bridge, with Nora walking beside her _again_. It seemed that they’d get partnered a lot – it was the third time in less than a day already. First, when Sharpe left them both in charge of Snart and Rory; second, during the arms sale. And now this.

The ex-assassin seemed to be the common denominator in all of these situations, and it made her frown as an idea entered her mind.

“Why do I get the feeling that she wants you to babysit me?” Sara asked, and, although she stated no names, she knew that Nora was aware of who she was talking about.

The witch, for her part, shrugged. “Because she does.” Nora didn’t look at her as she replied, and so she didn’t see Sara’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline in surprise. Before the ex-assassin had the chance to ask, though, the brunette went on. “No, I’m not going to tell you why. Let’s just get this over with.”

Sara shut her mouth again, but this entire thing was far from over. Sharpe had said that she trusted her, but it couldn’t possibly be true if the captain insisted on having her pet witch keep an eye on the ex-assassin.

She filed that train of thought away for future consideration. Right now, she had a job to do.

**\- LOT -**

Sara found herself walking with Nora, Jax and Stein through an university parking lot, surrounded by _hippies_ , of all people. A woman on roller skates swirled past her, and there was music coming from some cars. She looked around through the pink lenses of her round glasses.

“People actually wore this crap?” Jax asked, frowning as he looked around.

Stein looked at him as he replied, still walking. “People smoked a lot of pot in the 70s.” The man explained, and his voice was full of condescending displeasure. “It clearly had a deleterious effect on the fashion of the era.”

“I hate this era.” Nora muttered as soon as the professor finished speaking, frowning at everything and everyone around her. She was dressed pretty much like Sara, but in darker colors – well, only as dark as the 70s would allow her without drawing unnecessary attention.

Sara, for her part, realized then that she didn’t actually know when the witch was born. She looked at Nora out of the corner of her eye, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Not a 70s kid, then?”

Nora rolled her eyes. “I was born in 2003.”

That piece of information almost made Sara trip on her own feet. Because Nora was, what? Fifteen or sixteen years younger than she was? Technically the witch should be something around thirteen years-old in 2016, the year Sara came from, and seeing a fully-grown adult walking beside her in that parking lot was nothing short of bizarre.

She opened her mouth to ask more, but Nora spoke first. “Not the time for your questions.” There was unmistakable impatience dripping from her voice. The witch apparently hadn’t lied when she said she hated the 70s.

“You’re right.” Sara nodded. She could let this go – just for now. “Let’s just hurry up and get that particle tracker so I can get the hell out of these go-go boots.” She said, taking a quick took at the pair of white shoes on her feet.

“So that’s what they’re called?” Nora asked, and the lines in her face radiated such disgust that it was nearly too much for Sara, who pressed her lips together to contain a laugh. “Whoever invented these things should rot in hell.”

Sara shook her head, breathing out a chuckle, right before Stein started speaking again.

The old man looked at his three companions as he walked. “Remember, when we meet my former self, it is imperative that we don’t let on we’re from the future, so let’s just be... cool.” He finished right as the group’s steps came to an end, and his eyes were suddenly captured by something else. “Oh my god. Look.”

Sara followed his gaze to a guy standing not far from her. She took off her glasses to better observe the 25 years-old with light brown hair who smirked while talking to some girl, with his hands on his hips.

 _That_ was Professor Martin Stein?

“I’d forgotten how handsome I was.” The old man in question spoke, his voice full of amazement. “My hair, it’s so thick and silky.”

Sara exchanged a look with Jax and Nora, once again suppressing a laugh.

“I’ve seen better.” The witch muttered under her breath, sneering.

The ex-assassin actually agreed with her on that one. She’d never been the kind of person to deny beauty when she saw it, and Sharpe’s hair, for example, was nothing short of majestic, even paired with the captain’s generally ill appearance.

Right ahead, Young Stein’s eyes flickered to the group who observed him, and he said something to the girl he had been talking to before she left, and he walked toward the time travelers. At that, Sara fixed her hair and put her best smirk in place – she already had a good idea of how she’d get what they wanted from him, and maybe it’d be even easier than she’d thought.

It did not take long for Young Stein to reach them, and, when he did, the guy inspected Old Stein with suspicious eyes. “Do I know you?” He asked, still not taking his eyes off his future self.

Old Stein tensed, and his eyes widened a bit. “No. No. I- I- I’m-” He looked at Sara, Jax and Nora for a second before turning to his former self again. “I’m Professor Musk. Elon Musk.” Sara could have facepalmed at that, but, instead, she chose to simply smirk when the 25 years-old guy looked at the rest of the group. “And these are my three lab assistants.”

Young Stein nodded at Jax and then smiled in a way Sara was sure he thought was seductive when his gaze moved to the ex-assassin and Nora. “Hi. I’m Marty.” Then, he turned to Old Stein again. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

Old Stein’s eyes were still wide, and Sara was sure she’d have to intervene soon if the man didn’t get a grip. “Uh, that’s a very interesting question.” At least he had stopped stuttering. “Um, suffice it to say, I am familiar with your work.” Young Stein – _Marty_ – smiled at that, satisfied.

“That’s actually why we’re here. To see you.” Jax intervened and, just as Young Stein’s attention landed on him, the mechanic exchanged a short look with Sara and Nora. “You’re a leading expert in alpha particles?” He tried to sound confused.

A smirk spread across Marty’s face, and he was staring at Sara when he answered Jax’s question. “No, I’m _the_ leading expert.” Arrogant, then. This really would be far too easy.

The ex-assassin took a step toward the guy and smiled her most charming smile. “Well, we were hoping to pick your brain about your area of expertise.”

He raised both his eyebrows in satisfaction, but it was Nora’s voice that reached Sara’s ears then. “Just your brain, right, Sara?” She asked, sneering at the ex-assassin, who rolled her eyes.

Luckily, Marty didn’t seem to care, since he couldn’t take his eyes off Sara. “Physics? Which are you interested in, applied or theoretical?” She didn’t need to be capable of reading minds to realize that he was thinking about everything _but_ physics at the moment.

She threw a self-satisfied look at Nora before turning to Marty again. “That’s just the thing.” She took another step toward him, her smile widening a bit. “I can’t decide. I love them both.” Which actually applied to another aspect of her life entirely, but Young Stein didn’t need to know that.

Marty let out a slightly breathless whisper. “Cool.” Then, he smiled. “Well, let’s go spark a doobie and rap about physics.” She didn’t actually understand a word that left his mouth, but she did her best to look excited.

“Lead the way, Marty.” It was all she had to say for Young Stein to nod and start walking.

Sara followed the man, walking beside him, and looked over her shoulder at the rest of her group. Stein looked nothing short of appalled, while Jax looked like he could barely contain his laughter. Nora, for her part, had a tight smile on her face that actually made her look like she wanted to kill someone – she probably did, and that someone was probably Sara.

 _You’re welcome_ , the ex-assassin thought as Marty guided her, and her three companions, towards his lab, which was actually very different from what she had imagined.

The room was a bit dark, and Marty motioned for the group to occupy the seats around a low table on which was a large, round, yellow lamp. Young Stein sat on an armchair, as Sara and Nora went to sit on a sofa, and Old Stein and Jax occupied the one in front of them.

“So...” Marty produced a cigarette. Sara smirked, because didn’t Stein say something about pot a few minutes ago? “Who wants a hit?”

Jax moved to take the cigarette, but Stein took it before he could. “I believe you told me you told me you were trying to quit.” He said, staring at the mechanic with disapproval.

“Oh, none for you, silver top?” Marty asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Then, Sara took the chance to grab the cigarette from Stein’s hand over the yellow lamp, offering the old man her sweetest smile. Her enjoyment, however, was short-lived, as Nora moved to flick the object away from her fingers. The ex-assassin moved her hand out of her reach just in time to avoid it, but the cigarette went flying either way – _damn magic_.

“Hey!” The blonde hissed at the brunette, who responded with a sneer before turning to the others.

Sara glared at the witch until Stein’s voice forced her attention back to him. “I- I don’t partake in cannabis.” The ex-assassin raised her eyebrows as she stared at him with a knowing smile and, as he looked between her, Nora and Jax, the professor cleared his throat. “Anymore, that is.”

Then, he turned to Marty, who was still looking at him.

“In fact, perhaps you should take it easy.” The old man suggested.

Young Stein chuckled. “Ah, it helps me think better.” He raised his eyebrows at Old Stein. “ _Dad_.” The professor’s strained answering smile was what made Sara crack and she chuckled, as did Jax, while Nora snorted in derision.

Marty grabbed the bag of chips on the table, and Stein continued to talk. “Yes, but what about the long-term consequences? Speaking of which, you might want to lay off the saturated fats.”

Shit, why was this _so freaking funny?_ Sara chuckled again.

Young Stein ignored his future self’s suggestion, still eating his chips, and so Old Stein turned to the paper in front of him on the table. “So, uh...” He cleared his throat. “Alpha particles. Exciting stuff. Too bad detection is at least a decade away.”

Marty leaned forward. “Mm, more like two decades.” Then, he smiled proudly. “But I’ve worked up a little something. Science is all about the future, right?” He turned to Sara, and his grin became wider – his own version of seductive, she supposed. “I’ve developed a prototype particle tracker. Cutting edge. Probably going to mint me a million dollars.”

She made herself appear impressed. “Wow. A whole million.”

Marty nodded at her, smiling before clapping once. “Be right back. I think I’ve got some chocolate chip cookie dough in the fridge.” He didn’t wait for a reply before getting up and leaving.

Sara dragged her gaze to Stein, who then got up and walked away. She followed him, along Nora and Jax, and the professor started going through some drawers.

“I cannot believe that _that_ is you.” The ex-assassin remarked, amused.

“Seriously, I had no idea you were ever cool.” Jax added, grinning.

“Yeah, what happened?” Nora interjected then, and _ouch_. Even Sara felt the witch’s dry tone.

Stein did not look at any of them, instead continuing his search. “I wasn’t cool. I was an arrogant little snot.”

“ _Was_?” Both Jax and Nora asked at the same time, and the first let out a chuckle.

“What are you doing?” Sara asked right after, her amused grin turning into a frown as she watched the professor frantically look around the room.

Stein opened another drawer and looked inside it. “Looking for my younger self’s particle tracker. Keep and eye on the door.” Then, he finally turned to his companions again – specifically to Sara. “And, when I get back, stop flirting with me.”

“You were the one flirting with me.” She retorted, pointing a finger at the old man.

“Because you weren’t encouraging him at all.” Nora and her sardonic tone interjected as the witch stared at the ex-assassin with a blank face.

Sara rolled her eyes at the woman, but, before she could ask what Nora’s problem was, Jax spoke.

“Look, what’s the big deal?” The mechanic asked. “I mean, younger-you isn’t married yet, so it’s technically not cheating.”

Stein scratched his thinning hair. “October 1975.” He stated, as if remembering something. “This is right when I meet my future wife, Clarissa. So, obviously, we wouldn’t want my former self to be tempted by a... sexy assassin from the future.”

Oh, that was far too good to pass up. “Aw, you think I’m sex-”

“Do not finish that sentence.” Stein interrupted her.

Sara and Jax laughed, while Nora actually cracked an amused smile. Stein, for his part, went back to checking the drawers, and it didn’t take long for him to find one small box on a table and then take some strange device out of it.

“Eureka.” He breathed out in relief, admiring the thing he was holding. “I remember building this. It’s... it’s like a déjà vu all over again.”

It was then that Sara heard hurried steps approaching, and she didn’t need to look to know who it was, even before Young Stein’s voice cut through the silence in the room.

“ _Put that down._ ”

Old Stein’s eyes turned to Sara, Nora and Jax. “Excellent job watching the door.” He commented, his low voice filled with sarcasm.

Marty, for his part, walked to his future self, stopping in front of the him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just, uh...” Sara crossed her arms as she watched Stein trying and failing to come up with an excuse. She was getting ready to chime in – maybe in a violent way, she was still deciding – when the professor spoke again. “What is this?” He asked, pretending to be confused.

“Something you shouldn’t be fooling around with.” Marty answered as he snatched the thingy out of Stein’s hands, irritated. He then looked at Sara, and she detected a hint of betrayal in his eyes.

He was quick to grow attached, wasn’t he? Poor thing.

“It’s very interesting looking.” Stein went on, trying to smile.

Marty turned to him again. “How about you cut the crap?”

The professor looked away for a second, and he was about to reply when Nora spoke up first. “To exactly which crap are you referring?” The witch asked dryly. “There’s a lot of it here.”

Young Stein looked at her for a second, frowning, and then he turned his back on all of them and began walking away. “I hold two PhDs, and I’m working on a third. I’m a five-time winner of the Carlin Award.” Should that mean something to Sara or...?

The man stopped near a desk, where he placed his strange device. Then, Marty turned to the time travelers again. His gaze zeroed in on his future self.

He went on, his voice severe. “My point being, is I don’t believe any of those kids you’re hanging around with can even spell ‘physics’.” _Ouch_. So, he really was a jerk. It was to be expected.

Jax turned to Sara. “You know, I’m beginning to like younger Gray less and less.” He whispered to her, his voice not enough for Marty to hear him. The ex-assassin just grinned, still amused.

Young Stein, for his part, continued to speak, grabbing the nearby ancient telephone. “Either you tell me what the hell is going on, or I’m calling campus police.” He threatened, and Sara actually let out a snort – it’d pathetically easy for her to get rid of whoever got in her way, especially since her family’s fate depended on it.

Old Stein raised his hands in surrender, looking a bit – _a lot_ – desperate. “I’m not supposed to tell you. It could cause... well, trouble.”

Sara’s eyebrows shot to her hairline at that. Would the good professor really disobey pretty much the only order Sharpe had given them? And _for what_? So stupid _campus police_ wouldn’t come?

But, then, Stein went on, and his following words made Sara relax, even if she thought the excuse was far too weak. “We’re here to interview you for a profile in next month’s Wells Journal.” Was he bullshitting his way out of this _again_?

Marty faltered. “The Wells only profiles Nobel candidates.” Okay, so it wasn’t bullshit then, even if it kind of was.

“An exception has been made in light of your obvious brilliance.” Stein replied, his voice solemn. He might just turn into a decent liar, after all.

Sara, however, was growing impatient, and so she dragged her gaze from the pair of Steins to Jax and Nora, who stood beside her.

“This is taking too long.” It was all she said before she began to move. However, before she could take more than one step toward a hookah she saw not very far from them, with which she intended to hit Young Stein’s head and knock him out, Nora grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Hang on.” The witch said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Then, Nora turned to the Steins again, and she stared at the younger one, unblinking, as she began to chant something in a language that Sara couldn’t understand. It was actually kind of creepy.

The ex-assassin followed her gaze, and she realized that Old Stein was still talking. “... borrow it for a few hours.” He tried to take the device on the table, but his former self grabbed it before the old man could.

“Thanks, but that’s two years of my life.” Marty gestured to the tracker with his free hand, keeping his attention on his future self. “I’m not letting you walk away with it.” When Stein tried to catch for it again, Marty moved the device out of his reach, pointing an accusing finger at the professor. “Stay back!”

Then, out of the blue his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he dropped the device on the desk right before his knees buckled and his body collapsed on the floor, unconscious. Sara’s eyes were wide with surprise, and she turned to Nora to see that the witch had stopped her weird chanting.

“Nice.” She complimented, and the brunette shrugged in response.

Stein turned to them, looking appalled, his mouth hanging open. “You...” He stared at Nora. “You just knocked me out with magic.” He continued to stare at her, unblinking.

“I did.” The witch shrugged again, nonchalant. “Don’t worry. He’ll probably wake up with a very bad headache and maybe some ringing in his ears, but he’ll be fine.”

Sara actually chuckled at that, and it evolved into a full laugh at the look in Stein’s face.

“That beautiful brain, struck unconscious by a spell.” The professor sounded downright horrified, gesturing to the body lying on the floor.

Jax patted him on the back. “The only way to shut you up.” He said, barely suppressing an amused grin, right as Stein turned to the desk and grabbed a clock resting on it. “What are you doing? We have to go.” The mechanic pointed at the door.

Stein continued to mess with the clock. “I have to make sure I wake up in time to go to this faculty mixer tonight. One of the professors is bringing his niece.” He placed the object on the floor, near Marty’s head. “Aka my future wife.” Then, he grabbed the tracker on the table. “Let’s go.”

Sara simply nodded, and the group made their out of the lab.

Nora tapped the comm in her ear. “Ava, we have the tracker. We’re heading back to the ship.”

**\- LOT -**

The tracker ended up working, despite everything, and invading Savage’s lab actually turned out to be easier than Sara had thought it’d be. For supervillain and future tyrant, Vandal Savage didn’t care about security nearly enough.

Sara, Nora, Jax and Stein were crouched on the beams of a shed, watching the scientists working below, none of them seeming to notice the time traveler’s presence, and neither did the guards. It was just far too easy, like stealing candy from multiple babies.

“Perhaps I really am a genius.” Stein whispered, looking very satisfied with himself. “My younger self’s tracker led us straight to Savage’s lab.” He turned his attention to the device. “Reading’s at 96,6%. It’s definitely down there.”

Nora raised her hand. “Okay, let me-”

“I’ll take care of it.” Sara interrupted her. She needed some action, if only to quiet the rage which was becoming a bit harder to ignore by the second. The ex-assassin needed to let out some steam. “Be right back.”

Before she could jump to the ground, Jax grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Whoa... wait, wait, wait.” The mechanic frowned. He exchanged a quick look with Stein and, as he turned to her again, he appeared... worried. “Shouldn’t we let Nora handle this? Or us? I mean, aren’t you stoned?”

Sara pointed a thumb to Nora. “This one wouldn’t let me.” The witch, for her part, rolled her eyes. She seemed to do that a lot. “Besides, I could be unconscious and still be able to kick the ass of a few rent-a-thugs from 1975.”

She didn’t wait for another interruption before jumping out of the beam. A deafening noise echoed through the shed when the ex-assassin landed on a metal table, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

A guard ran toward her immediately, and Sara kicked him in the face. He staggered back, and she used the opportunity to jump to the ground, splitting her bo-staff in two batons – she had changed into her White Canary suit before coming.

A second guard came towards her, and Sara spun her body, knocking the gun out of his hand with one baton before striking his side with the other, making him fall to the ground. Then, the one she had kicked before came back with a gun, and she hit it once, but it wasn’t enough to force him to drop it, so she hit in the head next.

The other guard came back, and she spun one baton, making it collide against his face with enough strength that she heard the satisfying sound of something cracking, and he collapse, unconscious. Then, the first one tried to shoot her, and Sara hit his arm again, making him drop the gun, before striking him in the head. Just like the other, he fell to the ground, motionless.

Sara observed the pair of fallen men for a moment before walking toward one of the scientists, in front of whom was the device she’d been told to look for. She grabbed it, not caring much for her audience.

“Looking for this.” She smiled and turned to leave the building, waving at the remaining scientists in there. “And you all have a lovely evening.”

**\- LOT -**

The route back to the Waverider was peaceful, and Sara could feel the relief spreading across her chest the closer she got to the ship. They had fixed the problem, and so her family should be safe, right? She just wanted to get to Sharpe to confirm it as soon as possible.

Sara only broke the silence when they entered the ship again. “I’d never saved the world before.” She commented, smiling a little to herself, because, other than saving her loved ones, she had also saved a bunch of other people, and that was something _heroes_ did. “Feels good.”

Sure, she wasn’t a hero. One good deed wasn’t nearly enough to make up for her dark past, but it _did_ feel her feel warm inside, and it quietened the voices, if only for a moment.

“If you ignore that we were the ones who put it in danger, in the first place.” Nora retorted, all too nonchalant.

Jax laughed. “Hey, take the win. We should’ve picked up some donuts on the way back.”

Yeah, that would’ve been a good idea. Sara hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast – and she didn’t know how long it had been since, with all the time travel –, and her stomach was starting to growl. Maybe she could get Gideon to fabricate them some celebratory food.

The ex-assassin had just reached the first step of the metal staircase when Stein’s voice made her stop. “Oh my god.” She turned around to see him staring at his hand, looking terrified. “My ring.” He turned to Nora, who was frowning. “When you knocked me out, I must not have woken or did and decided not to go to the mixer. _Clarissa_.” The name fell out of his lips as a breathless whisper.

Sara swallowed, because _this_... this was bad. But, before she could think to say anything, someone else spoke.

“Holy crap.” Freaking _Marty_ said, looking around after he entered the ship through the open hatch door. He then turned to the group of time traveler. “Now, do you want to tell me who you are and where you’re from?”

No one replied, and the following seconds felt like hours until Young Stein grew tired of waiting and passed by the stunned group and hurried up the stairs. It was what it took to wake four out of their trance, and Sara looked at her three companions with wide eyes before following Marty.

They caught up to him when the professor’s younger self had already reached the bridge.

“Unbelievable!” Young Stein exclaimed, looking around in wonder. “Is that a tachyon manifold?” He pointed at something that Sara didn’t actually know what it was. Probably what he had called it.

“Hey, how did you find us, man?” Jax asked, sounding both confused and frustrated.

Marty turned to him. “You think I couldn’t build something to track my own tracker?” It actually made sense, and it was stupid of them to not having considered it.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Stein snapped at him, looking positively furious.

His younger self turned to him, seeming just as irritated. “What _I_ ’ve done? You guys knocked me out.” He gestured widely with his hands. “Somehow.”

The professor glared at his former self, trembling with anger and clutching the device in his hands. “Which we wouldn’t have had to do in the first place, if you weren’t such a monumental JERK!” He all but yelled at Marty’s face, and Sara’s eyes widened a bit in surprise.

Jax approached Stein, placing one hand on the professor’s shoulder and the other one on his arm. “Okay, uh, can I just... yeah.”

He started pulling the old man away from Young Stein, and the first begrudgingly allowed it even as he continued to glare at the latter. “Sara, Nora, watching.” The professor asked right before Jax managed to pull him to the parlor, leaving the two women away with their irritating stowaway.

Sara then turned to Nora, finding the brunette also glaring at Marty.

“Why am I always stuck in babysitter duty?” Nora muttered under her breath, which just reminded Sara that the witch was supposed to be _her_ babysitter, for some reason. She had a theory about it, but she’d have to ask Sharpe about it later, as soon as she got the chance.

If Sharpe did trust her like she had claimed, but still insisted on having Nora take care of her, then it could only mean that-

“Excuse me, can you-?” Marty interrupted her train of thought, approaching the duo with a raised finger, like a student meaning to ask something.

“No.” Nora, for her part, interrupted _him_ , staring at the young man with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Her arms were also crossed, and the hostility in her voice was pretty straightforward, making its target gulp and stagger backwards.

Marty no longer tried to bother them after that – at least, not directly. Instead, Young Stein moved around the room like a kid at an amusement park, touching anything and everything as he hummed and mumbled his observations to himself. It was irritating.

“Ava’s not going to be happy when she finds out.” Nora stated at some point, pinching the bridge of her nose. So, _that_ was why she had been so grumpy. Sara hadn’t known the witch for long, but she had sensed that the brunette preferred to stick to being just snarky instead of being downright aggressive.

Sara opened her mouth to ask what Sharpe’s reaction would possibly be – after all, she had yet to see the captain lose her cool, and she was waiting for it – but a crash prevented her from doing it. She turned to see that Marty had tripped in his nerdy exploration of the ship, but he got up quickly.

“I’m going to kill him.” Nora muttered under her breath, glaring at the man.

Sara tilted her head to the side, dragging her gaze from the witch to Marty again. “Tempting, but let’s not do that.” This was, after all, the Professor Martin Stein’s past self. If they killed him, the professor would be erased from history or something, and it’d be catastrophic.

At least. that’s what Sara kept repeating to herself in an effort to not take a shuriken out of one of the pouches in her utility belt and throw it at the irritating scientist’s throat.

Finally, Marty seemed to grow tired of exploring, and he turned to Sara and Nora again.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” He asked again, although his question wasn’t all that directed to the pair of women, both of whom had no intention of answering.

It was at that moment that Jax and Stein returned from the parlor and joined Sara, Nora and Marty on the bridge again. The professor dragged his gaze to the women.

“You didn’t say anything to him?” He asked.

Sara shrugged, crossing her arms. “I figured we screwed up the 70s enough.”

Marty’s face scrunched in confusion. “He- hey...” He then turned to his future self. “What are you talking about? Are- are you saying that you’re-”

The old man raised a hand, interrupting him. “Don’t say another word. Don’t even think about it. You’re to get off this ship, haste.” He said, giving the particle tracker back to his former self, who simply accepted it, speechless.

Then another voice echoed through the bridge, coming from the corridor and getting louder as its owner approached, and Sharpe entered the room.

“Nora, what’s going on? Gideon told me-” Her eyes landed on their stowaway, and the words got caught in her throat for a second before she pinched the bridge of her nose and went on. “Oh, it’s true. I was hoping Gideon was wrong.”

“I am seldom wrong, Captain.” Gideon immediately retorted, sounding a bit too smug for an A.I., and Sharpe shook her head in response, a small, fond smile appearing on her face for a second.

Marty’s eyes shot to the ceiling. “What-?”

Stein interrupted him before he could ask. “It’s alright. He was just leaving.”

“I’ll show you out.” Jax offered, but Marty kept his attention on his future self.

“So, have we met before?” He asked, his voice trembling a bit.

The old professor cleared his throat. “In a manner of speaking.” He held his past self’s gaze. “Ha- have a wonderful like, Martin. I mean that sincerely.”

Marty stood there, his mouth agape as he stared at Stein, until Sara pushed him towards Jax, who was waiting to lead him out of the ship. However, before the mechanic could, Sharpe stepped up, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jax, let me.” She said, offering him a small smile. “I’ll show him out.”

“Ava?” Nora interjected, frowning in confusion, and Sara could most certainly relate.

Because what did Sharpe intend to do, exactly? What was she planning?

The captain dragged her gaze to Nora and shrugged, maintaining her close-lipped smile in place. “Gideon kept me informed. I’ll take care of this.” She said right before placing a hand on Marty’s back and guiding him toward the corridor.

Gideon’s voice echoed through the room once again right when she was about to leave. “Captain Sharpe, we’re getting an incoming transmission communiqué.” The A.I. informed. “Mr. Snart on Mr. Rory’s comm unit.”

Sharpe frowned, and she looked at the ceiling for a moment before turning to Marty again. Then, she dragged her gaze to her best friend once more.

“Nora, take care of it.” The captain said, receiving a nod from the witch. “I’ll be right back.” And she finally left, taking their stowaway with her.

Nora, for her part, walked to the central console, and Sara followed, along with Stein and Jax.

She had almost forgotten that Ray, Snart and Rory had left on a mission of their own, and, taking into account everything that had gone wrong that day, it wouldn’t surprise her if their mission had too, somehow. Her brow furrowed as she watched Nora, waiting for her to act.

“Gideon, put him on speaker.” The witch said, with a frown of her own marking her face.

“ _I’ll make this short._ ” Snart’s voice echoed through the bridge, still as slow and dry as usual. “ _The owner of the mansion we burgled is Vandal Savage. He’s really interested in meeting you guys, especially our feathered friends._ ” The line went dead, and Sara’s wide eyes zeroed in on Nora.

The witch’s hands fisted over the console, and she spoke through clenched teeth. “They have the dagger.”

“And Savage has them.” Sara supplemented, seeing both Hall and Saunders enter the room out of the corner of her eye.

“Doesn’t matter.” Hawkman said as he and Hawkgirl joined the rest of the team around the central console. “Just get me close enough and I’ll do what needs to be done.” He spoke, his voice solemn.

“I have the coordinates.” Gideon chimed in.

Sara’s jaw clenched, and she looked at Nora again, since Sharpe had left her in charge. The witch took a glance at every person in the room, her green eyes holding a dangerous glow, and she took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Let’s wait for Ava to come back.” Nora said. “And then, we’ll do this.”

Sara nodded, feeling her own hands balling into fists. It was time to end Savage, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, everyone! here I am again, back with another 8k words chapter
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I really do. please, tell me what you think about it and what you expect to see next. honestly, I always love hearing your theories about this story because, even if it's based on something we all know, some things will change, and I can barely wait to see your reactions to it. also, as always, please tell me about any typos or things of the sort.
> 
> also, next chapter is ava's pov! it'll be titled Ava I, so that should be enough indication. but I just thought I'd warn you, in case, just so y'all don't get confused. so, A N G S T! because it's ava, so of course there's angst *insert evil laughter*
> 
> as for your comments, I'm sorry for not having replied yet. I'm an asshole, and I'm really sorry. I'll do it tonight, if nothing prevents me from doing it. just know that every single one of your comments makes me immensely happy and I'll grateful for the feedback, truly
> 
> one more thing: I usually post chapter previews on my twitter, in case there's someone who's interested but hasn't seen it yet. it's @capsaraIancelot, and the first L is actually an I. just thought I'd tell y'all again
> 
> that's all, I guess
> 
> see ya!


	5. Ava I

It was surprisingly simple for Ava to convince Marty to attend the faculty mixer, and so she should have assumed that something else would go wrong. In her Ray’s wise words:

‘ _Ah, look, it wouldn’t be a true Legends mission unless something went wrong. Or several things._ ’

Nora telling her that the mansion she had sent Mickey, this Ray and Snart to was owned by Savage himself shouldn’t have shocked her, and yet, it did. Hearing Captain Cold’s words made her freeze for a second, and the ex-director felt six pairs of eyes staring at her, waiting for instructions.

Something heavy and unpleasant settled in the pit of her stomach. Ava called the shots now – and her co-captain wasn’t around to help her make sure that everything wouldn’t go to hell.

‘ _Because as far as I’m concerned, we are co-captains for life._ ’

‘ _Always._ ’

But Sara had lied, in the end.

It made the perpetual longing that dug an ever-growing hole in Ava’s heart more painful. Because _Sara_ would know what to do, how to make sure that everyone came out of this alive. And the ex-director wasn’t sure if she could, not without her White Canary.

Still, she had to try. For her Legends – and for the ones in front of her now.

Ava took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, more out of habit than on purpose, and the usual pain flared to life, even at such a small movement. “Gideon, did Ray take his suit with him?” She asked, although she had a good guess as to what the answer would be.

“I’m afraid not, Captain Sharpe.” The A.I. replied not a heartbeat later.

The ex-director screwed her eyes shut for a second, because of course things couldn’t just go well. She took a deep breath again before opening her eyes, still staring at the ceiling.

“Gideon, please, help Nora find it.” Then, she turned to the referred brunette.

Nora raised an eyebrow at her, and Ava nodded. The witch puffed and muttered something under her breath before leaving the bridge to do as she had been told.

Finally, Ava turned to the remaining team members, all of whom were watching her in expectation.

“The rest of you, suit up.” She said, so Hall and Saunders turned to leave too.

The ex-director hesitated for a moment, watching the Hawk couple walk toward the corridor. She hadn’t lied when she said that she’d lost part of her memories, although she didn’t mention which memories were the ones to go, not really, or _why_ she hadn’t taken the serum in time to begin with.

Shame still weighted in her chest when she remembered her cowardice – how, for a moment, she considered simply letting herself disappear with the rest of her family, with Sara, Nate, Zari, Nora, Mickey, Ray, Behrad, Charlie, John and Astra. And how it was only because of her weakness that she didn’t have all the information she needed to properly protect everyone and achieve their goal.

But she still knew some things, if only because Sara had told her, and she remembered everything her girlfriend had ever said to her. The memories Ava had lost were superficial, but only because those had never been _hers_ in the first place – instead, they had belonged to the other clones.

Ava’s most recent memory was actually from the day she’d first met Sara, Nate and Ray, because, apparently, that memory was actually her own. Everything else before it had vanished, even the fake childhood memories she remembered discussing with Sara.

She perfectly recalled the many conversations she’d had with her girlfriend about all the people whose death the ex-assassin blamed herself for – Carter Hall was one of them, even if Sara barely knew him at the time and wasn’t even the captain of the Waverider yet.

Because that was just who Sara was, forever feeling responsible for things she had no control over and always carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. And, if Ava could lighten some of that load – even for a Sara that wasn’t actually _her_ Sara – then she would.

Because there was not a single version of Sara Lance who didn’t deserve better than what she had been given.

“Not you, Mr. Hall.” The ex-director finally spoke, right as the Hawk couple reached the doorstep. Both of them turned to her, frowning. “You’re staying on the ship.”

The couple exchanged a quick look before Hawkgirl broke the suddenly heavy silence. “What?”

“What do you mean?” Hall spoke next, taking a step toward Ava again. He didn’t look happy, but then again, he never did.

She squared her shoulders and joined her hands behind her back. It hurt, as many things did now, her muscles and joints burning with a familiar fire. But she clung to it, either way – because pain was all she had now. She could continue to go ahead with that scar, to focus on following its path.

“I mean exactly what I said.” It sounded like she was back in the Time Bureau, talking to Gary or some other cadet – impersonal and rigid, just like any 2213 clone. “You’re not going.”

Hall’s brow furrowed a bit more, and he moved to stand in front of Ava, holding her gaze. “You’ll need me if you want to kill Savage.” He retorted, his voice like steel, but she didn’t back down.

“Ms. Saunders-”

Hawkgirl interrupted her. “I was just a barista not too long ago. I- I don’t think I can kill Savage.” She said, and her voice wavered in a way that made her insecurity very evident. “Not alone.”

The ex-director screwed her eyes shut, because this plan working without Hall depended entirely on Saunders killing Savage instead. But, if she couldn’t, then it’d leave Ava with no choice other than to postpone the mission – to grab Ray, Mickey and Snart and run out of the mansion.

That or simply accept to lead Hawkman to his death, and she didn’t want that. Granted, Ava didn’t know much about Carter Hall, but she didn’t want him to die.

“Why don’t you want him to go?” The sudden sound of Sara’s voice made Ava’s eyes snap to the ex-assassin, who stared at her with a frown and her arms crossed. Not for the first time, the former director had to remind herself that this wasn’t her Sara, lest she’d get lost in those beautiful eyes.

Because she _wasn’t_. This Sara was withdrawn, although she could hide it well behind a charming smile. Her eyes were frantic, snapping to anything that moved around her, in a way Ava didn’t know if she was even aware of doing. This Sara usually chose to observe the rest of the team from afar, with tense shoulders and a distrustful gaze, seeming like she wanted to pick everyone apart.

A far cry from the Sara who had allowed zombies to eat her alive because she trusted her team to take care of everything – even if Ava had ultimately failed her on that one.

‘ _I have faith in you, babe. And I have faith in this team. And after I go, you’ll fix this, I know it._ ’

This Sara just looked... _haunted_.

Lost.

It made Ava’s heart feel like lead in her chest, and so she looked away from Sara, instead dragging her gaze back to Hall before responding to the question that had been voiced.

“Because you’re going to die there.” She said, willing her voice not to waver. There was no point in beating around the bush, and she had to solve this situation fast, lest Savage could decide to get rid of his hostages.

Hall blinked. “What?”

“You’ll die at Savage’s mansion.” She replied, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t know that the mansion I’d sent Ray, Snart and” _Mickey_ “Rory to belonged to him, but I can’t let you go there now that I do.”

His eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he said nothing. Instead, the one who broke the silence was Jax, his voice rushing out of his mouth. “Wait, he’s going to-?”

“How does it happen?” Saunders interrupted him, moving to stand beside Hall. Ava turned to her, and she saw the utter fear reflected in the other woman’s dark eyes.

The ex-director sighed. “I don’t know. I did lose some of my memories, as I told you, but death... that’s something hard to forget.” She then dragged her gaze back to Hall, who was still staring at her, in silence. “I don’t know how, but I know that, in my timeline, you died at Savage’s mansion. That’s why I’m asking you to stay on the ship, so you can be safe.”

And she sincerely hoped that he would agree. Not only because she didn’t want him to be another person whose death Sara would feel guilty for, but also because Saunders clearly loved him, even if she might not have admitted it yet, and Ava wished the pain of lost love on no one.

But, as she watched a steely resolve settle in his eyes, she knew that her hope had been in vain before he even stated his answer.

“No.”

Saunders put a hand on his shoulder, trying to attract his attention. “Carter-”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t stay here.” He interrupted Hawkgirl, not averting his gaze from Ava as he spoke. “Vandal Savage murdered me and the woman I love continuously for 4000 years. He’s the reason why our son grew up without his parents. I can’t let him get away with it.”

It was then that Ava knew that there was no point in arguing with him – she understood that need to avenge a loved one better than most. She had been consumed by it during the time between losing her Legends and deciding to save Nora before recruiting the – _old_ – new ones.

Ava knew it because she had gone back in time to kill the one responsible for all this mess before he would even be capable of defending himself. Because she had also massacred the whole Order of the Shrouded Compass before one of them dared to raise a hand against Nora for the first time.

And she’d done it simply because she had been angry, resentful – blinded by rage.

She had lost herself in her grief, and, in the process, she’d become someone she was sure her Sara would never be able to love. Or maybe she would, because it was _Sara_ , but it’d never be the same.

So, even if she knew that it was useless, Ava tried to dissuade Hall from following that same path, because there was no going back from it. “If you go, I don’t know what will happen. I can’t protect you.”

“You told me what you know, and that’s all I can ask of you.” Hawkman replied, and Ava closed her eyes and let out a resigned sigh at his words. “I’m grateful. But I need to do this.”

She opened her eyes again to see Hall leaving the bridge, with Saunders trailing after him, calling his name. Ava let out another sigh, but remained otherwise silent, and her shoulders slumped. The familiar dull ache that accompanied every single one of her body’s movements nowadays showed up as usual, spreading across her muscles – stronger, _almost_ unbearable, in her left arm.

Ava had seen better days, after all.

She dragged her gaze to Stein at the sound of his voice. “Do you have a similar warning to any of us?” He asked, hesitant, and gestured to himself, Jax and Sara.

The ex-director stared at him. There was no point in telling the professor about his own death, not when it wouldn’t happen anytime soon, and she didn’t want him to live with the weight of waiting for his demise hanging over his head, not when it was preventable.

Then, she averted her gaze to Jax, who would one day be happy with a beautiful wife and daughter of his own, and to Sara, who would still have many brushes with death, far more than she should have had to endure.

 _Sara_. The shorter blonde was staring at her with those same distrustful eyes, as if she were trying to read her. Ava held her gaze, not bothering to mask the longing that settled in her chest, because she just missed her Sara _so much_.

She missed Sara’s snazzy send-offs, and her beautiful smile, and the way her eyes would light up after a successful mission. Ava missed her strength and her compassion and the way she’d simply embraced her role as, not only captain, but Team Mom, as Nate had been so fond of calling them both.

She simply missed everything about her girlfriend, from the taste of her lips and the way her body felt against Ava’s own to how Sara cared about the Legends, how she’d learned to forgive herself for so many things she had carried with her for years – how she overcame her demons and became the most wonderful person Ava had ever met, perfect with all her imperfections.

Most of all, she missed seeing Sara happy, because she deserved it more than anyone.

‘ _I’m actually pretty happy just flying through time with you guys. I got my lady. I’m pretty happy._ ’

Ava closed her eyes at the memory, willing the tears away. She couldn’t breakdown now – not in front of Sara, Stein and Jax and certainly not when she had yet to rescue Mickey, Ray and Snart.

Finally, she forced herself to look at Professor Stein again. “No.” Her response was soon met with a relieved sigh from both him and Jax, and so Ava hurried to correct that. “But be careful. While changing history for the better is possible, so is changing it for the worse.”

Which was why Nora would have to forgive her, but Ava would be pairing her up with Sara again. If only because she trusted her friend to protect her girlfriend’s past self, since the witch was well aware of what the ex-assassin meant to her.

Even if the woman staring at Ava with distrustful eyes wasn’t her Sara at all.

**\- LOT -**

Invading the damn mansion wasn’t hard, but Ava had never expected it to be. The plan was simple enough: send Jax and Nora inside so they could blast Savage with a combination of their powers, and so the immortal would be sufficiently vulnerable for Hall and Saunders to finish the job.

It wasn’t all that safe, but it was the best she could come up with in so little time.

Ava waited outside with Sara, Hall, and Saunders until a blast echoed through the entire property. The ex-director signaled for the trio to follow her, and they met up with the rest of the team at the mansion’s entrance.

Her heart tightened when she saw the blood on Mickey’s forehead, and she had to will herself not to close the distance between them and check on him. Something told her that this Mick Rory was not as receptive or understanding of the gesture as her Mickey had grown to be.

‘ _And a reformed thief turned romance novelist._ ’

‘ _Who’re you calling reformed?_ ’

“It’s all good.” Jax announced, smirking with satisfaction, as he approached the rest of the group. “Savage’s down.”

“Savage is not defeated by earthly means.” Hall retorted with his usual serious tone. Much of his face was hidden under his helmet, but Ava could see that he was nowhere near smiling.

Jax shrugged, his smirk never faltering. “Well, I hit him with a nuclear blast.” Then, he pointed a thumb at the witch who had silently moved to stand beside Ava. “And Nora here used some pretty cool spells. So, you know, not that earthly.”

Indeed, not earthly by any means. And, while not enough to end Savage once and for all, it would hopefully be enough to knock him out until Hall and Saunders could do it.

Ava turned to the three who had first invaded the mansion. “Do you have the dagger?” She asked, alternating her attention between them.

Snart nodded and held the referred dagger for Hall to take, which Hawkman quickly did. “Go get that son of a bitch.” Captain Cold said, receiving a nod from the other man.

The latter then turned to the woman standing beside him. “Are you ready to end this?” He asked, and his voice was solemn.

“We’ve only been waiting 4000 years.” Saunders replied, and nothing about her posture so much as indicated any more tension than expected. Whatever conversation she’d had with Hall after the couple left the bridge to change into their suits seemed to have restored her confidence.

Hall nodded at her and, next thing Ava knew, the couple’s majestic wings were in full display and they flew away. And, as the flapping vanished, the ex-director heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming her way from behind.

“We’ve got company.” Mickey announced and, following his gaze, Ava looked over her shoulder to find a bunch of guards with flashlights approaching them.

“We do.” She breathed out before turning to Ray. The ex-director stuck a hand in her pocket and took out the ex-CEO’s super-suit, holding it up for him. “I’d have preferred if you had brought it with you.”

He frowned, taking the almost toy-like suit from her hand. “You told me not to bring it.”

“Or to be more careful with it if you did.” Ava corrected, and, even if it was a bit dark outside of the mansion, she could see the blush that rose to the man’s cheeks. It made her crack a smile, just for a moment. “Now, go. Suit up.”

Ray nodded, and Ava turned her back on him, already reaching for her gun. She fired at a guard’s thigh and, as another approached her, she punched him in the face with her free hand, and the man had been pathetically unprepared to take the hit, for it made him fall to the ground. The ex-director then flexed her fingers – she hadn’t been in a fight in a while.

More of Savage’s goons joined the first two, and what happened next was total chaos.

Firestorm and Atom were flying around the property, blasting as many guards as they could, while Captain Cold and Heatwave used their respective guns. Nora’s magic flared to life – it was almost blinding in its purple colors, shoving whoever it came into contact with away.

Suffice it to say, it was hard to keep track of everything.

At some point, Ava found herself back to back with Sara, and it was so familiar that, for a moment, it almost felt like she was back in her timeline – _almost_ , if not for the pain that weighted down on her body and slowed her reactions, a permanent trace of the serum that she needed to inject herself with in order to continue to exist.

There was another man coming her way, and she put her gun back in the holster, as it had run out of bullets just now. She should’ve brought Rip’s laser gun – he wouldn’t miss it, after all.

She hurled the man over her shoulder as soon as he attempted to grab her, and he landed breathless on the ground, where she kicked him in the head. Then, someone else came from behind her, and Ava elbowed him in the face, raising her leg as she spun her body to land a kick on the side of his head.

“You’re not bad.” Sara’s voice caught her attention, and Ava turned to her.

The ex-assassin’s hair was disheveled, and her cheeks were flushed, a thin layer of sweat forming on her forehead. She had split her bo-staff in the usual two batons and used one of them to knock out an incoming enemy before turning to Ava once again, with an eyebrow raised.

She looked beautiful, Ava thought, but she was quick to banish the idea from her mind as the guilt settled in the pit of her stomach again, dragging her heart down. This was not Sara – not _her_ Sara, at least.

She still remembered the whole Zari situation. Tomaz and Tarazi could not have been more unlike each other even if they had tried, because, in the end, they’d had different life experiences. While Sara was no child and had already lived most of the things that turned her into who she was, there were still many missing – most of them painful, and Ava had every intention of avoiding those.

This Sara wasn’t her girlfriend – she would never be. And Ava couldn’t let herself think of her as such. It was like betraying her Sara, and it wasn’t fair to this Sara either.

Ava then cleared her throat and elbowed the man who came from behind her in the face. “It’s just a shame that you’ll never see me at my best.” She smiled tightly, not quite managing to instill any sincerity in the gesture.

Even so, she hadn’t lied. The serum had damaged her body in a way she most probably wouldn’t recover from – she was a second too slow, a bit too weak, even if she tried her best. She wondered how much time she’d be able to survive like that, sometimes.

Sara spun one of her batons, hitting one guard in his throat, and the man stumbled back, gasping. Then, the ex-assassin landed a roundhouse kick on his head, knocking him out, and she turned to Ava once again.

“That serum really did a number on you, didn’t it?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, before throwing one of her batons at Ava out of nowhere. “Behind you.”

The ex-director spun her body in time to face another goon who came from behind her. She kicked him in the stomach, making him double in pain. Her baton then collided with the back of his head, sending his face toward the knee that she’d raised to meet it. He fell to the ground, and she turned back to Sara.

She tossed the baton back to its owner. “You could say so.” The ex-director replied, remembering the other woman’s observation. Sara simply nodded, and Ava dragged her eyes away from her, if only because she couldn’t bear to look at the face of the woman she loved anymore.

Her gaze landed on the mansion, from where Saunders and Hall had yet to return. An unpleasant feeling settled in Ava’s chest, and she forced herself to look at Sara again.

“I need to check on our Hawk friends.” She said, watching Sara easily knock out another guard.

The ex-assassin gazed at the mansion for a second before turning to Ava again. “Go.” She brought the two batons together to form her bo-staff once more, and she spun it in time to hit another goon who tried to attack her.

Logically, Ava knew that Sara could take care of herself, but leaving her alone still didn’t sit well with the ex-director. Nora was supposed to be nearby, as she had been instructed to be, but the fight had taken the witch somewhere else entirely. Ava had to find her, and fast.

“Let me just get Nora-” She started to say, but Sara interrupted her.

“I can handle myself. I don’t need a babysitter.” The ex-assassin frowned at her; annoyance deep-seated in every line that built her face. “And we’ll have to talk about that, by the way.”

Ava swallowed. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with this Sara – ever.

Either way, she found herself agreeing. “Of course.”

Against her better judgement, Ava rushed to the mansion, leaving Sara behind – and she felt like her heart had stayed behind with the White Canary.

She arrived at the porch in time to see Savage throw Saunders to the floor after Hawkgirl tried to attack him. The other woman’s helmet fell off, and she crawled to Hall, who remained motionless on the floor, blood coming out of his mouth.

It felt like Ava’s heart had ceased to beat for a second – because _she had failed_.

Like she had failed to protect her family. Like she’d also failed to protect this Mickey, if Chronos’ presence in this timeline was anything to go by.

It felt like all she did was fail the people she loved nowadays.

But Savage was still standing, staring as Saunders begged Hall not to leave her and with his back turned to Ava. The ex-director took a deep breath before lunging forward to snake her arm around the immortal’s neck in a chokehold, pulling him backwards and away from the Hawk couple.

“What-?” Savage tried to speak, but Ava tightened her hold around his neck, shutting him up. Her debilitated muscles burned at the effort to prevent the immortal from freeing himself, as he started trying to do, with his big hands grabbing her arm and struggling to pull her away.

The ex-director kept her eyes trained on her fallen teammates. “Saunders grab Hall and get out of here! Take him to the med bay and-”

Ava broke off when Savage managed to loosen her chokehold enough to grab her wrist and twist it painfully. She gritted her teeth, swallowing the scream that built up in her throat, and her enemy used her distraction to seize her arm and throw her over his shoulder, toward the floor.

Pain shot through her arm, and she was sure she’d heard something snap just before all the oxygen was expelled from her lungs when her back hit the ground. She looked up in time to see Savage’s dagger driving toward her face and rolled out of the way.

Something collided with her back and Ava stumbled forward as the air got knocked out of her again. She leaned on the half-wall she’d been pushed in to for a second before jerking away from it, watching as Savage’s dagger hit the place where she’d been with a metallic screech that made her ears hurt.

Ava stood still while he turned to her again, her right arm dangling at her side, since she couldn’t move it anymore. Her shoulder must’ve dislocated when the bastard threw her to the floor, and it hurt like hell.

She would have to fight a man with four thousand years of fighting experience with only one arm. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as her Sara would’ve thought it was, but then again...

‘ _When did a Legend ever go quietly?_ ’

Savage stared at her, still holding his knife, and a smirk appeared on his face. “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve made a terrible mistake. You can’t fight me.” His smirk widened. “I’m a force of nature. A servant of fate. I-”

“I’ve met the Fates.” Ava interrupted the immortal, and his eyes widened in surprise – she didn’t know if it was because of the interruption, or the affirmation she’d made. “And I don’t much like them.”

After all, Atropos had been a downright psychopath who had almost killed her girlfriend and still managed to blind her for a while, and Lachesis was, at best, a poor excuse for a human being and, at worst, an abusive monster – someone who had hurt both Astra and Charlie deeply.

 _Charlie_. Ava cracked a smile as she remembered the third fate. “Except for Clotho.”

Savage opened his mouth to respond, and Ava used his distraction to lunge toward him one more time. She tried to punch him with her good hand, and he blocked the blow with his forearm right before going for a jab, which Ava dodged by diving to the ground.

It was exactly what she needed, seeing as her legs were much stronger than her arms, and one of her arms was still pretty much useless at the moment.

The ex-director put her good arm on the floor for support and spun her leg, kicking Savage’s own with her heel and making him fall to the ground with a loud thud. And before he could get up, she snaked her legs around his neck in another chokehold.

The immortal tried to pull her legs away from himself, gasping for air, and she tightened her hold on his neck – obstructing the air passage and constricting his blood flow. He slapped and punched her thighs and forelegs, but each blow was weaker than the last and his face reddened as he started to run out of oxygen.

Ironically, Ava felt like she could breathe again when he finally stopped moving. She took a deep breath and slowly pulled her legs away from Savage, leaving him unconscious on the floor as she got up. She stared at him, but the man remained still.

Her arm was still throbbing, and so Ava put her free hand to her injured shoulder before she turned her back on him and rushed to where Hall and Saunders were.

Ava kneeled in front of Hawkgirl, with the fallen Hawkman between them. Immediately, she took two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse, only to find none. Her eyes widened and shot to the other woman again.

“Saund-” She broke off. It didn’t feel right to call the vigilante by her surname, not now. “Kendra, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” And she was – she _really_ was.

The ex-director still remembered what losing Sara had been like, not simply to a timeline that had been destroyed, but to someone else’s hand. It felt as if a part of her had been ripped apart.

The memory of lifeless eyes staring at her would forever haunt Ava, and she wished it on no one, much less Kendra – especially because she could’ve prevented this from happening if she had just insisted a bit more, if she had refused to allow Ha- Carter to come.

It was all her fault.

“I’m-” She tried to apologize once more, even if she knew it’d fix nothing. The ever-present guilt in her chest felt a bit heavier as a new weight was added to it. Carter was, after all, simply another person she’d failed – one more name added to an already long list.

Ava could not finish the sentence, however, since Kendra interrupted her. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” The guilt that settled in Hawkgirl’s eyes was far too familiar, as were the tears that rained down her face. “You told us about-” Her dark eyes widened as she dragged her gaze from Carter’s body to the ex-director – to something _behind_ the ex-director, specifically. “Ava, look out-!”

Something sharp and cold buried itself in Ava’s back, and she gasped at the pain that shot through her body. An arm snaked around her waist, and Savage pulled her up while keeping the dagger in place, pushing it further, deeper, and it made the blonde screw her eyes shut and clench her jaw.

“This dagger was never meant for you.” He whispered; his voice too close to her ear for her liking. Her mind was already starting to feel foggy, and she struggled to understand what he was saying. “You should feel honored that you get to die by its will.”

Savage twisted the blade, and Ava gritted her teeth so hard that she felt like her jaw was going to break. Then, he suddenly removed the dagger from her back, and she felt something warm soaking her white shirt as she fell forward, right into Kendra’s waiting arms, panting.

Everything hurt. Her shoulder, her wrist, the freaking stab wound in her back, as if her body had any need for the additional pain nowadays. Ava felt as if her entire self was burning, and her ears were ringing as her thoughts kept getting hazier, her body sagging in the arms that held her.

Then, suddenly, something pulled her away, and Ava found herself on the cold, hard floor. There were hands on both sides of her face, gentle hands, and she opened her eyes – she hadn’t realized when she’d even closed them – to find a pair of terrified green irises staring at her.

Nora.

The witch’s voice sounded like it came from the surface as the ex-director sunk underwater. “Ava. Ava!” The blonde felt frantic but gentle pats on her cheek.

Her vision cleared a little, and Ava asked herself why Nora was wearing that black leather jacket, instead of the usual light-blue clothes. The fairy godmother had never worn any other color since she was cursed by Tabitha.

“Stay with me, Ava!” Nora screamed again, and Ava felt something drip on her face. _Tears_. “Ava, please, not you too.” It was more of a whisper than anything else, and the ex-director could barely hear it. “Stay with me. Please.”

Ava remembered it, then. This wasn’t _that_ Nora, even if she was just as important. That Nora was gone now, along with everyone else.

It was what it took for her to remember what happened, where she was and _who_ she was with.

“He- hey, No-ra.” She managed to choke out, feeling the blood pouring out of her mouth. “Is- is- every-?” She was breathless, and it was getting harder and harder to speak.

Thankfully, Nora appeared to understand her. “Yes, everyone’s okay.” The witch’s voice faltered, and it sounded so wrong coming from her. “Except for you, you idiot! Palmer!” She continued to scream something at someone, but the ex-director was no longer listening.

Ava must’ve blacked out because, next thing she knew, she was back on the Waverider, occupying one of the seats in the med bay, and the familiar cold feeling of the medical bracelet encircled her right wrist. There were firm hands on her shoulders, and Ava heard her name through the ringing in her ears.

She looked up, meeting her best friend's terrified green eyes again.

‘ _Dad, Sara and Ava aren’t my henchwomen. They’re just my friends._ ’

There was something amassing in her throat, and she coughed. Next thing she knew, Nora’s face, still a bit too close to her own, was stained with red dots that slid down to form lines, and it caused the witch’s eyes to widen a bit more, full of terror.

Ava tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure how comforting it would be with blood pouring out of her mouth and dripping from her chin. “So- sor-ry.” She managed to choke out, gasping for air.

Nora stared, terrified, and, not for the first time, Ava wondered if what she’d done to her had been a mistake. Not saving Nora, she would never regret that – but allowing the witch to grow attached to her, knowing that she had a deadline, that she’d cease to exist as soon as she ran out of serum.

Knowing that, eventually, Ava Sharpe would become another name on the list of people that this wonderful woman in front of her had lost.

Then, Nora grabbed the collar of her button-up shirt, and Ava could see the tears cascading down her face even through her blurred vision. “Don’t you dare die on me, _you dick_!” The witch all but commanded, speaking through clenched teeth, but her voice was still faltering.

Ava coughed again, and she realized that the only thing keeping her from falling forward was her friend’s hold on her. Nora seemed to notice it too, and so the witch pushed her to lean against the back of the metal chair, and Ava then allowed her head to fall back.

She was tired – she had been tired for a long time, actually.

She wondered what Sara – _her_ Sara – would think if she could see her now. Perhaps her girlfriend would be disappointed at the broken mess that Ava had allowed herself to become.

‘ _Let’s be honest, neither of us needs anybody, right?_ ’ She had told Sara once so long ago, and she stood by it, even now. Ava could live without Sara – she could move on, start over.

The ex-director simply found that she had no desire to try.

Perhaps it’d be different if she had someone by her side to help her through the grief, whether it’d be Nate, Zari, Nora, Mickey, Ray, Behrad, Charlie, Astra, or even John. But she didn’t – because they were all dead too. Ava was the last one standing, and even that wouldn’t be true for long.

She vaguely heard Gideon’s voice, saying things like “broken wrist, dislocated shoulder, internal bleeding”, but soon it all faded into a ringing in her ears that swallowed everything else. Ava then allowed her heavy eyelids to close and, for a second, she thought she felt her Sara’s hand holding her own.

She wasn’t in pain anymore.

**\- LOT -**

“ _NATE!_ ”

Ava woke up to a scream, and it took her a second to realize that it was her own. She shot up from the chair, and it was like she could still see it: her friend – her _brother_ , as Nate had taken to calling himself during the time when Sara was missing – lying on the ground, torn apart.

Hands grabbed her shoulders, and Ava blinked to find green eyes staring at her, instead of a shiny, shattered steel shape scattered all over the ground. Nora again.

“Hey, are you okay?” The witch asked, but the ex-director was no longer looking at her. Instead, Ava turned to the rest of the familiar bright room – the med bay. Not the desolate place where all the people she’d ever loved died in front of her. “Hey.”

She turned to the brunette again, and Nora pushed a strand of blond hair away from her face.

“Nate this time, I take it?” Nora raised an eyebrow, and her eyes searched Ava’s face, worried.

Ava nodded, still panting, and looked away again. She fell back into the metal chair and her friend let go of her shoulders. Her heart still raced, and her mind felt a little foggy, but it wasn’t enough to make her forget what she’d seen while unconscious.

Her nightmares were familiar by now, even though they weren’t usually the same. Sometimes she would see Nate, screaming as the alien tore him apart with his bare hands, and sometimes it’d be Nora – the other Nora –, crawling to Ray’s corpse as her light-blue clothes became stained in red. It wasn’t always the same, and Ava had relived her entire family’s death every night ever since it happened.

More often, Ava saw Sara and those glassy blue eyes staring at her, lifeless. It was usually enough to chase any thought of sleeping away.

“How long have I been out?” She asked, if only because the quiet was starting to feel suffocating, and she couldn’t take it anymore. The silence allowed her mind to wander back to some very dark places, and it wasn’t what she needed, not right now.

In front of her, Nora crossed her arms. “A few hours.” She still had some time before she’d have to take another dose, then.

“And where’s everyone?” Ava asked, struggling to swallow the lump that formed in her throat.

She risked turning to her friend again, seeing her roll her eyes and mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “of course that’s what you worry about” in a frustrated tone. She shouldn’t have assumed that Nora wouldn’t be upset about her most recent near-death experience.

“Snart and Rory were at the galley when I last saw them.” The brunette finally replied. “Saunders locked herself in her room. I haven’t seen Lance in a while. And I’m almost sure Palmer, Jackson and Stein are at the cargo bay with that stupid suit.” She shrugged. “Well, Palmer and Jackson are fixing it. The professor is sulking.”

No mention of Carter. It only reminded Ava of what happened, of how she’d failed him.

But she didn’t have the luxury of being alone with her misery anymore. Nora wouldn’t let her get away with the guilt that constricted her heart like a ghost hand. So, she tried to focus on something else, if only so she wouldn’t breakdown until she was alone.

“Why?” She asked, her mind zeroing on what she’d heard about Stein. It’d be a nice distraction.

Nora shrugged again, not seeming to care much. “You know what happened with his wife.”

Oh, _that_. It felt like it had happened days, _weeks_ ago, not only hours. Still, she was pretty sure she had fixed everything – Gideon had confirmed it –, so why was Stein still upset?

Ava sighed. “I have to talk to him.”

She moved to take the medical bracelet out of her wrist, only for Nora to grab her hand, stopping her from doing so.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Then, the witch moved her hand away from the bracelet. “You’re not leaving until Gideon has cleared you.” It made Ava roll her eyes, because, despite her having seen Nora grow up, somehow the brunette ended up being her caretaker nowadays.

She still wasn’t sure of how she felt about it.

Ava’s face turned blank, and she looked at the ceiling. “Gideon?”

“I have not yet finished-”

“Am I going to die if I leave this med bay?” Ava interrupted the A.I., speaking with a nonchalant tone that would certainly annoy Nora and, to some extent, Gideon, if past experiences had taught the ex-director anything.

“No.” Gideon replied. “However-” But Ava was already removing the bracelet and getting out of the metal chair, ignoring the A.I. entirely. Moving hurt as much as she had expected – her shoulder was still kind of stiff, as was her wrist, and the stab wound in her back felt like fire at the slightest movement.

The med bay wasn’t yet fully recovered from Chronos's attack, after all.

“Ava!” Nora exclaimed, moving to push her back into the chair.

The ex-director held her ground, holding the arms of the chair for support. It was at times like this that she was the most grateful to be one of the few people on whom Nora couldn’t – _should not_ – use magic, because otherwise there’d be no way to escape this med bay.

She put a hand on the witch’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, I promise, but there’s something I have to do first.”

Nora glared at her, and Ava held her gaze, unflinching. She knew that her friend worried, as she’d done since she was old enough to understand the story the ex-director told her, but it didn’t mean it was necessary.

“I’ll go eat something at the galley.” Nora then said, and Ava’s face broke into a little smile. “You better be here, _resting_ , when I come back.” It was as good as she’d get, so the ex-director nodded.

Nora was quick to leave, muttering something unintelligible to herself, as Ava went her own way. The blonde made sure to check things with Gideon again before she finally reached the cargo bay, where, as she had been told, Ray and Jax were tinkering with the Atom suit. Stein, however, stood a little farther away, sitting on a box, his head down.

Ava cleared her throat, attracting their attention. “Hey you.”

Both Jax and Ray dropped their tools and approached her, and even Stein rose from his seat. The mechanic was the first to talk, though.

“Hey, cap!” He greeted, smiling excitedly as he raised a hand, holding it up. It was a familiar little thing, and Ava remembered seeing it before – several times, even. Only it wasn’t Jax who usually did it.

‘ _Do you hear that? That’s $4.2 billion, hell to the yes. Meet me uptown, Ava Sharpe._ ’

She blinked and it was Jax staring at her again, his hand still raised in expectation. Ava high-fived him as expected, but her gentle smile became a bit strained at the memory. She wondered if she’d stop missing Nate Heywood, as well as the rest of her family, someday.

She hoped she wouldn’t.

“Are you okay?” Ray then asked, pulling Ava out of her thoughts.

She opened her mouth to reply, but, before she could, Gideon’s voice made itself heard. “Captain Sharpe is stable. However, another time jump could aggravate her injuries.”

Ava felt like choking the life out of Gideon, if the A.I. had a human body. She hadn’t intended to disclose that small piece of information. It wasn’t relevant – sure, time traveling again would hurt, but it wouldn’t be enough to kill her, hopefully.

“Thank you so much for the unrequested information, Gideon.” The ex-director retorted, making sure to instill in her voice as much sarcasm as she could muster.

“You are welcome, Captain Sharpe.” The A.I. replied, and the blonde rolled her eyes in response. Sara had been right – Gideon was a damn cheeky bot.

Ava looked – _glared_ – at the ceiling, and she tore her gaze away from it only when Jax broke the silence.

“So, we’re stuck in 1975?” He asked, frowning in confusion and, she could risk saying, worry.

The ex-director sighed – _that_ was the reason why she had not wanted Gideon to say what she did. Still, Ava supposed there was no point in arguing about it now.

“For the time being.” She said, keeping her gaze on Jax for a moment before moving it to the man who stood just behind the mechanic and Ray. “Given that, I need a moment of your time, Professor Stein. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

The professor seemed confused, but he ended up nodding, and so Ava guided him toward the door hatch, leaving Ray and Jax behind to continue tinkering with the Atom suit.

The Waverider was once again parked and camouflaged near the university where Sara, Stein and Jax had encountered Marty earlier, and Ava took the professor to the dark, almost empty parking lot. It was still dawn.

“Apparently, it’s true that the guilty return to the scene of the crime.” Stein stated, looking around. Sadness was evident in every line that built his face, and Ava found herself eager to end it.

She cracked a little grin. “While I don’t disagree with you on that, I think you should look at your hand.”

He did so far quicker than she’d expected, and his eyes widened when he realized that his wedding ring was once again in place. It had vanished before, according to Gideon, and it was what moved Ava to fix the situation, no matter the cost. It turned out to be easier than she’d thought.

The professor’s bewildered eyes turned to her again. “How-?”

“I might have encouraged Marty to attend the faculty mixer when I showed him out.” She replied, interrupting him before he could finish the question. “Turns out one of the professors brought his niece.”

Finally, Ava spotted what she had been looking for – what Gideon said she’d find in that parking lot. Marty and who Ava assumed to be a young Clarissa Stein were sitting on the sidewalk together as each held a bottle of beer and laughed out loud, staring up at the starry sky above.

It was a beautiful scene, even if it made Ava’s heart ache as she missed Sara a bit more.

The ex-director pointed at the couple, and Stein watched them just as Ava did. His mouth hanged open for a moment, and Ava could’ve sworn she saw his eyes shine with unshed tears right before he turned to her again.

“You risked the timeline for me.” He said, not bothering to mask his surprise.

“Not that big of a risk.” Ava shrugged. “You were married when I met you, in my timeline, and I don’t believe for a second that this went smoothly for Rip when he did this. I’m assuming he must have fixed the situation for you.” Of course, she had no way of knowing if that was true, but Stein didn’t need to know that. “The way I see it, I simply kept the timeline intact.”

“Thank you, Ms. Sharpe.” At his sincere words, Ava simply nodded, silent.

Only one of them should have to endure losing the love of their life, and it wasn’t Professor Stein.

“Who did you lose?” His sudden question caught her by surprise, and her eyes widened. She had not realized that she’d spoken out loud. “Your boyfriend? Husband, maybe?”

Ava swallowed the lump in her throat. “My girlfriend.”

He didn’t bat an eye at the correction. “I’m sorry.” The professor said, staring at Ava with sincere sympathy as he spoke with a gentle intonation.

She averted her gaze. “So am I.” Then, Ava took a deep breath, struggling to keep the tears away. “Shall we go back?” Stein appeared to understand that she did not want to discuss it anymore, for he nodded.

The way back to the Waverider was quiet, and Ava felt grateful for it. She wasn’t sure if she could answer questions about her life before this entire mess without breaking down. When they finally reached the cargo bay again, Ray and Jax weren’t there anymore.

Instead, someone else was waiting, and Ava’s stomach dropped. She shouldn’t have assumed that she’d escape being questioned, after all, even if not by the professor beside her.

Ava turned to Stein, who clearly hadn’t noticed the third person in the room – not that she’d blame him. “Go ahead. There are some things I have to do here before I go back to the med bay.”

Stein nodded, bidding her goodnight before making himself scarce.

Ava turned to a dark corner of the room. “Hello, Sa- Ms. Lance.” She clenched her jaw at her slip. It wasn’t the first, and it wouldn’t surprise her if Sara had noticed, although she wished the shorter blonde hadn’t.

“You can call me Sara.” The ex-assassin replied, leaving the shadows. “You’re obviously used to it.” So, she had noticed. _Of course_.

Ava cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “What can I do for you?” The ex-director asked, squaring her shoulders and joining her hands behind her back in order to retain some semblance of control.

Sara shrugged, a bit too nonchalant. “We haven’t finished our conversation. Are you going to tell me what I want to know, or do I have to ask?”

At this point, Ava’s heart was hammering against her ribcage, but she tried to keep her face blank. She didn’t know how successful she was being at that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The ex-director retorted, even though she _did_ know.

Sara had questioned her about her constantly assigning Nora the babysitter duty, as the ex-assassin had put it, and she had also voiced her intention of continuing that conversation after the incident in Savage’s mansion. Ava shouldn’t have assumed she’d escape it just because she’d been stabbed in the first place.

“You turned Nora into my personal babysitter.” Sara responded, crossing her arms. “Me. Not any other person on this team. I thought you said you trusted me.”

Ava was maybe a bit too quick to reply. “ _I do!_ ”

“Not a babysitter, then. A bodyguard.” Sara went on, and it made Ava screw her eyes shut because _of course it’d been a trap_. “Why? Did we know each other, from your timeline?”

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? The one Ava had feared that Sara would ask. Because they hadn’t simply known each other. They had been everything to each other, once upon a time.

‘ _I’m admitting something that can save us both. I love you._ ’

‘ _Because I love you, you goober, and nothing’s going to change that._ ’

Ava took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. The familiar tears that gathered in her eyes stung, and she hoped that Sara couldn’t see them in the dark room.

The ex-assassin, for her part, was still expecting an answer, and so Ava settled for something that wasn’t a lie, although it wasn’t the whole truth either. “We did.”

Sara observed her for a small eternity, silent. Then, as her brow furrowed, she spoke again. “And did future-me do anything to make you think that I can’t take of myself?” Her question took Ava completely by surprise. It was just about the last thing she’d expected, and she hurried to answer.

“No!” Sara’s eyebrows shot to her hairline in surprise, and Ava cleared her throat before she tried again. “No, of course not. I’m just...” She looked away. “I’m being overprotective, I guess.”

Because Ava had seen Sara die far too many times. Because Sara had taken off the armor around her heart and torn it open as if it were nothing. Because Sara had made her _feel_ when, apparently, she was never supposed to.

And Ava didn’t know what would become of her if she saw the woman she loved die again.

The shorter blonde – the one in front of Ava at the moment, the one who was not her Sara – tilted her head to the side in curiosity. “Were we close? In your timeline, I mean.”

“We were...” Ava cleared her throat. “Friends.”

It was perhaps her biggest lie yet. They had never been friends – not _just_ friends, anyway. They’d been enemies for a while, and then they reached that weird stage in which they liked one another but wouldn’t confess. Then, they were girlfriends and, later, co-captains.

Saying “friends” felt like the understatement of the year, but it was for the best. The shorter blonde didn’t need any additional weight on her shoulders, and she had no obligation to feel what Ava’s girlfriend had felt.

Sara frowned and opened her mouth to speak – to ask more, probably – but Ava spoke before she could utter a word. “I’ll try not to be as overbearing, Sara.” Or be more discreet about it, in other words. “I promise.”

Her pinkie tingled, because every promise she had ever made to Sara had been sealed by a pinkie swear.

‘ _It’s something you do when you’re a kid. It’s like a promise._ ’

It was their thing, and, again, Ava had to remind herself that this wasn’t that Sara – not _her_ Sara.

The ex-assassin nodded, and so Ava went on. “Now, has Nora shown you your room?” Nora had. At least, the witch had said so, and this was simply an excuse to finish this conversation as quickly as possible, before Ava would simply break in front of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, inside and out.

To her surprise, Sara shook her head from side to side, and Ava frowned. Why did Sara lie?

Still, the ex-director forced herself to smile. “Allow me, then.”

She went up the stairs to the corridor, with Sara following her. The silence lasted, interrupted only by their steps and the sounds that were normal to the ship, and Ava had almost allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief when Sara’s voice came again.

“Who’s Nate?” Ava almost tripped over her own feet, and she dragged her wide eyes to the former assassin, who had a blank face, looking ahead. “You screamed his name earlier, in the med bay.” Because of course Sara had been spying on her. It was just Ava’s luck. “Boyfriend? Husband?”

The ex-director breathed out a choked laughter. “I’m not really the husband kind, if you get what I mean.” Then, she looked ahead, but it did not stop her from feeling Sara’s surprised gaze on the side of her face. “Nate was...”

She didn’t know how to explain him – or any of her Legends, really. They had somehow wormed their way inside her heart, perhaps using the same opening that Sara had torn into her defenses.

“He was what I imagine a brother would be like.” She continued after a moment, feeling her heart constrict in her chest as her mind was invaded by the image of him dying. She clenched her jaw.

“And you lost him.” Sara supplemented, and Ava looked at her out of the corner of her eyes. This Sara wasn’t her girlfriend, true, but she still had Laurel. She knew, more than most, what a sibling meant. “I’m sorry.”

Ava nodded, not trusting her voice not to falter if she dared to speak.

The pair went the rest of the way in silence, and soon they reached their destination. Ava stopped in front of a familiar metal door, the one that led to what had once been her bedroom too. She had chosen to move to Rip’s old room – the memories were just too much for her to bear.

‘ _So, you have a room on this ship or...?_ ’

‘ _Let’s go find out._ ’

She screwed her eyes shut, willing the memories away, before turning to Sara again. “This is your room. Good night, Sara.”

Ava turned her back on the ex-assassin and left without allowing her to give her an answer, tears streaming from her eyes as she walked back to the med bay.

All she seemed to do was cry these days.

Nora was nowhere to be found when she got to her destination, but Ava put a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that escaped her, her eyes screwed shut as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. It took her far more time than she’d care to admit to recover enough to speak, although she was still nowhere near finished crying.

“Gideon, is anyone near the med bay or coming this way?” She asked as she headed to the metallic chair and put the medical bracelet around her wrist again. She still needed to patch herself up.

“No, Captain Sharpe.” The A.I. replied.

“Please, play the recording from the day of the Genghis Khan mission. The second one.” Ava said then, trying to wipe the tears off her face, even though they just kept coming.

‘ _Ava, call me later so I can thank you properly._ ’

“I am not sure if that’s wise, Captain.”

Ava let out a choked laugher. “I don’t care if it isn’t. Just...” She sobbed. “Please.”

Gideon offered her no response and, instead, a hologram appeared in front of Ava.

Sara stared at the ex-director with a smile on her face, her mesmerizing blue eyes lit up. “ _You sure took your time, huh? What took you so long?_ ”

Ava stood silent, and she watched as Sara tilted her head to the side, her smirk morphing into full curiosity as she seemed to pay attention to something – to what past-Ava had said, how she’d told her about Zari and their newfound friendship.

‘ _Well, as your friend, I have to tell you. No more pantsuits. You’re better than that._ ’

God, she missed Zari so damn much.

“ _Oh, okay._ ” Sara’s voice caught Ava’s attention again, and the once-captain smirked. “ _The more, the merrier, I suppose. Just make sure to tell me next time you want to adopt another kid._ ” And it made Ava crack a watery smile, even if this was nothing but a memory now.

This Sara wasn’t around anymore – hadn’t been for a while.

“ _Now that we’ve got this out of the way, I know I promised to thank you_ _properly._ ” The hologram went on, ignorant to present-Ava’s pain. “ _But, first, I have something to ask._ ” Her face scrunched in adorable confusion. “ _What the hell is a foxy hedgehog?_ ”

Ava laughed, but it was watery and nothing more than a pale echo of how she’d laughed when that question had been voiced for the first time. Even so, she could pretend, if only for a moment.

Pretend that this Sara wasn’t gone, that her heart wasn’t broken.

It wasn’t wise, like Gideon told her. Reliving those memories when she would never be able to have the people she loved by her side again was breaking her slowly.

But that pain was all she had left of them now, and she would cling to it until time finally washed her away to where they were waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey again!
> 
> first, let me thank y'all again for the support. it's really important to me. thank you for your comments, kudos, bookmarks. hell, just for reading this
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the chapter. please, let me know what you think. also, if the writing is better than it's been these past chapters, please thank @Caffinate_me, my new beta! also, y'all should check out her fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753497) it's just AMAZING
> 
> also this one https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934288, cause we all deserve some zava friendship content in our lives
> 
> that's it, I guess. again, I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter. please, please let me know what you think about it. next chapter, we're back with sara's pov. and one more thing: are y'all liking the... pacing? I don't know if that's the right word. like, I took 5 chapters to go over 2 episodes. is it too much? am I dragging things? let me know too
> 
> okay, now that's all
> 
> see ya!


	6. Sara V

Sara was clad in her pajamas, standing between the walls of a familiar, dark corridor. The silence hung in the air like a fog, and a lump formed in the ex-assassin’s throat as she took tentative steps forward.

She already knew what she’d find – had seen it many times before. But, no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t stop walking, couldn’t stop her mind from putting her through this again.

Finally, she turned the corner that led to the dining room, and her bare feet touched a warm, sticky puddle. Sara looked down, and the red that stained the wooden floor was visible even in the dark. The ex-assassin’s breath got caught in her throat, and she swallowed before looking up again.

Someone was lying on the floor, next to the table. Blood pooled around him, and there was _so much of it_. Sara took a step toward him, and her foot sank into the red puddle again. Then, her entire body froze as her eyes found something – _someone_ – else.

There was one more person in the room: a small trembling person. A little girl shaking her father’s body, asking him to wake up in a tearful voice. She didn’t seem to notice Sara at first, too focused on trying to wake the dead man, but suddenly her head shot up and wide eyes stared at the ex-assassin.

Sara stood there, unmoving, as the girl continued to look at her with eyes full of fear for what felt like an eternity. She was just a child; a child whose father had been taken from her – whose father _Sara_ had taken from her.

The horrible sound of something snapping filled the ex-assassin’s ears as the girl’s head suddenly turned to the side in an unnatural way, and Sara shot up from her... bed?

She looked around, gasping for air. The dark bloodied dining room was long gone, and in its place was her new room, on the Waverider.

It was still a little dark, but the metal walls were nothing like the beige wallpaper stained with red drops. The double bed, with the blue sheets and pillows, was very different from the table next to her victim’s body, and the grey floor looked nothing like the blood-covered wood. She was not at that house.

But she had been a long time ago, and her hands were no less stained with blood just because they appeared clean now.

Sara kicked the sheets away and put her feet on the cold floor but didn’t get up. Instead, she then put a hand to her chest, struggling to calm her erratic breathing. Her heart was still hammering in her ribcage, and it was almost too painful, but there was also something else, something she could not quite explain.

It was a warm, comforting sensation at the base of her neck. Like a touch. Her own hand traveled upwards, resting over the spot. This was new, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

Still, it calmed her heart and her breathing in no time at all, and Sara sat in her bed, frowning, her hand still in place. The nightmare was still vivid in her mind, but the usual cold that accompanied it was chased away by that strange warmth.

Yes, this was new. But _what exactly was it_?

**\- LOT -**

“We’ve arrived in Leipzig, Germany, the most current location for Vandal Savage.” Gideon stated right as Sara walked onto the bridge to see Sharpe, Nora, Snart, Rory, Jax and Stein.

It had been a while since she had woken up, but the damn ship had only _one damn bathroom_. Suffice it to say, it had taken her far too much time to get ready for the day. Her annoyance was quickly forgotten, though, seeing as Sharpe and Nora were in the middle of an argument that captured her attention.

“You can’t be serious.” The witch asserted. She had her arms crossed and looked at her best friend with disbelief deep-seated in every line that built her face.

The captain, standing on the opposite side of the central console, sighed. “I am.” She then looked up from the screen and toward the brunette. “Nora, I’m fine. The stab wound’s closed-” The witch glared, and so the blonde cleared her throat. “ _Almost_ closed. My shoulder’s back in place and my wrist is healed. I’m fine.”

Except she didn’t look fine. The time traveler appeared especially fragile at the moment. Her skin was paler than usual, if that was even possible. Her shirt was rumpled and its top buttons had been left unfastened, revealing a strange scar on her collarbone, just like its folded sleeves exposed her left arm and the blackened veins that contrasted with the sickly pale skin.

She looked far from _fine_ , actually.

“Half your body is still blue.” Nora deadpanned not a heartbeat later. “And the pieces of the-”

“Gideon took care of those.” Sharpe interrupted her, all too nonchalant.

“But the time jump would still be harmful to your body.” Snart chimed in, seeming unconcerned. He was sitting on the floor, with his back against one of the metal seats and his legs stretched out, his ankles crossed. He held Sharpe’s gaze when she turned to him. “I pay attention.”

“That’s irrelevant.” The captain retorted, averting her gaze back to the screen.

“ _It’s not irrelevant_.” Nora snapped, her hands fisting as she moved around the console in order to approach Sharpe. “This is your life we’re talking about. You are _not_ going to put me through that shit again.” She sounded angry, but Sara could see the worry in her eyes.

Those two had a peculiar dynamic. The witch had been a kid when they met, and the captain had been around through her entire childhood, it seemed. However, it felt like Nora was the one taking care of Sharpe now. Although the brunette had good reasons to act that way, Sara supposed.

Even the ex-assassin had to admit that Sharpe’s lack of concern for her own life was worrying.

“To sum up.” Sara’s attention snapped to Rory when the man started speaking, all too nonchalant as he walked around the room. “Carter Hall is dead, Vandal Savage is sitting pretty in 1975, which we’re all stuck in unless we want you to follow Birdman.” His unimpressed gaze went to Sharpe. “That how the plan was supposed to work, Pantsuit?”

The captain’s shoulders slumped a bit. “No. But not all is lost.” She looked at the other people in the room, but her small smile was wavering. “It won’t be easy, but we can still stop Savage in the past and save the future.”

She didn’t look so certain, in Sara’s opinion, despite trying really hard to look the part. It was like she was trying to convince herself that things would be fine, instead of simply reassuring the team after their recent loss.

The ex-assassin crossed her arms and tilted her head a bit to the side, watching the taller woman’s reaction curiously as Stein spoke.

“How?” The professor asked, sounding unsure. “I’m not certain that Ms. Saunders is prepared to face him at the moment.”

Oh, yes, their Kendra problem. Sara had been informed by Ray that Hawkgirl hadn’t left her room since the team came back from Savage’s mansion. It was understandable, seeing as her boyfriend had died and none of them had even had enough time to bring his body back to the ship, since Sharpe had been bleeding out.

Still, it was a problem. Because, with Carter dead, Kendra was the only one capable of effectively killing Savage, and if she couldn’t-

Sara preferred not to consider the possibility.

“She’s grieving. Let her.” Sharpe stated, and the sound of her voice brought Sara’s attention back to her. The captain seemed to know a thing or two about grief, as the ex-assassin had learned last night. “Meanwhile, we should focus on other things. Gideon, what’s our status?”

The A.I. was quick to answer. “When the Waverider was attacked by Chronos, the jump ship was damaged. Unless you make repairs, we will be unable to-”

“Wait, jump ship?” Jax interrupted her, and Sara was actually glad for it. She also wanted to know what this thing was.

“It’s a...” Sharpe seemed to think for a moment, chewing on her lower lip. “Expeditionary vessel.” Her little smile finally vanished, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “And _of course_ it had to be damaged, because it wasn’t bad enough that we had to _rebuild the whole thing after-_ ” She shut her mouth, her eyes widened as she realized she was about to say something she maybe shouldn’t.

Sara raised an eyebrow. “After?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sharpe rushed to respond and, before Sara could remind her that she promised to answer all their questions, the tall blonde went on. “Jax, you’re a mechanic. And Stein, you’re... well, you.” She said, gesturing toward the duo. “Think you can take a look at it?”

The professor’s entire face lit up at the prospect. “I-”

“Auto mechanic.” Jax interrupted him, pointing at himself. Then he gestured to everything around them. “Uh, _spaceship_.”

He had a point. Sara doubted that whoever had taught him how to repair cars had covered a time-traveling spaceship maintenance.

Stein, for his part, patted him on the shoulder, his excited grin never wavering. “Don’t worry about it, Jefferson. I’m certain that, between the two of us, we can think of something.”

The mechanic stared at the professor for a moment, still appearing skeptical, and then he turned his attention to Sharpe’s hopeful face. His shoulders slumped a bit, and Sara could tell he had already caved.

“Okay, if you’ve got a set of wrenches, I’ll see what I can do.” Jax said, and Sharpe smiled at him before she started making her way to the parlor.

Rory’s voice made her stop. “What about the rest of us? Do we just sit?”

The captain turned to him, wincing a bit as she replied. “For now. Sorry.” Then, she turned to the parlor again and made her way there, as she first intended to.

Snart took the opportunity to get up from the floor and leave the bridge, alongside Rory. The duo had just disappeared from Sara’s view when Sharpe returned with a toolkit and a book, which the ex-assassin supposed was an instruction manual – they would need one. The captain handed both items to Jax, who then left the room, with Stein walking beside him.

Finally, only Sara, Sharpe and Nora were left.

The captain walked over to the witch. “You should get some sleep. You were in the med bay with me all night.” She said, and her voice was gentle as she pushed a lock of dark hair away from the brunette’s face. It made Sara think of Laurel, of how her sister took care of her.

“I’m fine-” Nora trailed off when Sharpe raised an eyebrow at her. And honestly, the dark circles around her green eyes were far from subtle. “Okay. Just...” She sighed. “Please, don’t do anything stupid. I mean it, Ava.”

“I won’t.” The captain replied, just as gentle as before, and smiled at Nora.

The witch hesitated for a moment before finally taking her leave, a yawn escaping her mouth just when she was about to cross the doorway. And, just like that, only Sara and Sharpe remained.

The captain nodded at the ex-assassin, silent, before she moved back to the parlor.

For a while, Sara didn’t move. She stayed on the bridge, watching Sharpe through the glass walls, curiosity building up inside her. The tall blonde had moved to the back of the room and sat on the chair in front of the desk in there. Sara then saw her take something – a phone – out of her pocket and stare it.

Without even realizing it, Sara started walking towards Sharpe, and she was soon behind the other woman, who appeared not to have noticed her presence. The captain was really doing something on her phone: she was looking at pictures. She had just slid her finger across the screen to change the photo when Sara managed to get a clear view of the new image.

Ava Sharpe’s smile in that picture was like none Sara had seen on the captain so far. It was honest and bright and so full of happiness that it was almost blinding. Her hair looked even more majestic than usual, which was saying something, considering that Sharpe’s hair always looked obscenely good. She was wearing a dark-blue suit, with her blazer open to show a now familiar white button-up shirt. There was some kind of pin on the lapel, but the ex-assassin couldn’t see it well.

There was a man standing beside her, with his arm thrown over her shoulders. He was a bit taller than she was and had brown hair. Nice jawline, too. He was also wearing a suit, a black tie resting over the white fabric of his shirt, but the blazer was hanging from his other arm. His grin was just as wide as hers, almost as if he were mid-laughter.

Sara had an idea of who he was.

“Is that your Nate? He looks nice.” She said, and Sharpe looked at her over her shoulder, not even surprised by her presence. The captain raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. Trained by the League of Assassins. Sneaking up on people is kind of our thing.”

Not their only thing, but Sara didn’t want to talk about _that_ at the moment.

Sharpe chuckled, but it was dry, devoid of any trace of real happiness. “Oh, I know. _Old assassin habits die hard_.” She replied, turning off her phone and placing it on the table before she spun the chair in order to fully face Sara.

The ex-assassin frowned at her words, confused. Then, she remembered what Sharpe had told her last night, about them being friends. It made sense that the captain would be used to her behavior, if that was actually true.

Still, it wasn’t what Sara wished to discuss – not right now, at least. She still hadn’t forgotten the words that came out of Sharpe’s mouth earlier, and the almost desperate way she had spoken them then. There was no one else in the room, not even Nora, so Sara no longer had to stop herself from voicing her questions.

“You don’t actually have a plan, do you?” The ex-assassin asked, raising an eyebrow at the taller woman. “And that little speech wasn’t about convincing us. It was about convincing yourself.” If the way Sharpe looked away then was any indication, she wasn’t wrong. “Didn’t work, did it?”

The captain smiled, but it was strained, unsure, and she didn’t look at Sara as she spoke. “Actually, I do have a plan. It simply doesn’t include us facing Vandal Savage right now.”

“Because we can’t kill him without Kendra, and Kendra isn’t leaving her room.” The ex-assassin supplemented, raising both eyebrows at the other woman. She hadn’t actually expected Sharpe to have thought of something. What had the captain been worried about before, then?

There was something else, something Sara wasn’t seeing yet, and it bothered her that she couldn’t read this woman as well as she should be able to. For someone who couldn’t be bothered to mask the ever-present pain in her eyes, Sharpe was quite good at keeping everything else concealed.

“Exactly.” The taller woman replied. “We can’t kill him. But we can slow him down.” Her smile then turned a bit more sincere, more enthusiastic, and it was kind of infecting. “That’s what I was discussing with Nora earlier. You see, money is power.”

Oh, did Sara know that. Her recent, uh, lifestyle had not left her with a lot of need for money, but she had been ordered to kill more than enough people because of it. Besides, she still remembered something Ra’s al Ghul used to say:

‘ _If you can’t kill an enemy, weaken him. If you can’t cut off his head, take his heart._ ’

It was horrible, as most things were in the League of Assassins, but it was also useful for fighting powerful adversaries, such as their current enemy.

“Take away Savage’s fortune and he’s just a regular guy with a really long lifespan.” Sara finally replied, and Sharpe’s smile widened a bit at her words. “I like the way you think.” It was far from the ideal solution, but it was still better than sitting on the ship doing nothing.

Sharpe leaned against the back of the chair, crossing her legs. “It would set his plan for world domination back a few decades. It won’t stop him, but it will make it easier for us to end him next time we meet.”

It actually would. No nuclear bombs, no goons, nothing to stop the entire team from concentrating on giving Kendra the chance to kill the dictator. It was worth a shot.

“So, where does Savage keep his money in 1975?” Sara asked, crossing her arms as she took one step toward Sharpe, who chose that very same moment to get up from her chair.

Suddenly, the two women were standing slightly closer to each other than appropriate. Up close, Sara realized for the first time that Sharpe’s eyes weren’t just blue. There was a hint of grey in there, like the daytime sky as rainy clouds started to show up.

It was a beautiful color, even with the heartbreak that stained it.

Sharpe cleared her throat, and Sara couldn’t help but notice the blush rising to her cheeks. “Gideon is tracking it as we speak.” Her voice sounded a bit thin, and finally she put some distance between herself and Sara, walking past the ex-assassin to get to the bridge, and the shorter blonde followed her. “Gideon?” The captain asked, busying herself with something on the screen in front of her.

The blue hologram of Gideon’s head appeared over the central console. “Dr. Boardman theorized that Savage entrusted his assets to the Brümberg Group, the oldest bank in the world.”

It should be another interesting mission, then.

“I’ll go tell the rest of the team.” Sara said, keeping her eyes on the only other person in the room.

Sharpe didn’t look at her, still focused on something on the screen. “I am going alone. I can’t risk anyone else.” She said, her voice so rigid, so _cold_ , that it didn’t leave any room for argument. Not that Sara had ever been famous for respecting social cues such as this one.

“Except for yourself?” The ex-assassin frowned, tilting her head to the side. Sharpe still wouldn’t look at her, so she continued. “You can’t go in there without backup. You’re still hurt. And there’s your weird serum.” She said, seeing Sharpe’s jaw clench in response. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

The captain’s hands balled into fists over the console, and Sara expected her to retort, to insist on the idea of going on her own, not that the ex-assassin would let her. However, Sharpe’s shoulders simply slumped a second later, and the taller woman let out a heavy sigh.

“Sara, I brought you all here under false pretenses.” The time traveler said, keeping her head down as her voice wavered. “I- I let Carter die. He would still be alive if I had just-” She trailed off and screwed her eyes shut. Her shoulders tensed again, and her hands fisted once more.

Finally, Sara saw Sharpe’s behavior for what it was – self-destructive guilt. The ex-assassin knew a thing or two about it, and she had more than enough reasons to feel it, unlike the captain. A brief reminder of the nightmare that woke her up in the morning flashed through her brain. She pushed it to the back of her mind. It wasn’t the time.

Even then, there was no denying what Sara had done, the kind of monster she was. Sharpe, on the other hand, had tried to warn them, had told Carter to stay on the ship. It was not her fault that he didn’t listen, that none of them did – including Sara, who had been actively struggling to keep the part she played in Hawkman’s death away from her thoughts.

“No one is on this ship that doesn’t want to be here.” She argued, taking a step around the console and towards the other woman.

“But I can’t risk the whole team.” Sharpe replied, still not looking at her. “I won’t.” She appeared determined, and Sara knew then that there was no point of arguing any further.

Still, a compromise would be easy enough to achieve.

“Fine.” The ex-assassin shrugged, perhaps a bit too nonchalant. “Just me.” She opened her mouth again to continue her argument, only for the other woman’s head to snap up. Sharpe proceeded to stare at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You’re not going.” The taller blonde asserted.

Oh, the familiar taste of hypocrisy. Sara smiled dryly, remembering Sharpe’s argument with Nora earlier, not to mention everything she’d just said.

“I’m sure Nora won’t be too happy about you going, either.” Sara said, willing her voice to sound sweet, innocent, even as she stared at the captain with her most sardonic smirk.

Sharpe blinked. “Are- are you threatening to snitch on me?” She asked, her nose scrunching in an adorable confused expression, and there was no way in hell that Sara’s would-be future self hadn’t tapped that at some point.

Then again, she supposed someone like Ava Sharpe would have higher standards, even if the time traveler seemed to have no qualms about being friends with a monster like her.

“If that’s what it takes.” Sara shrugged, willing that particular train of thought away. It wasn’t the important thing right now. “Look, I’m not giving you a choice. I’m going with you to that bank.”

“ _Somebody say bank?_ ”

Sara screwed her eyes shut at the sound of Snart’s voice. She should have known those two would be eavesdropping. How did she not notice it before? Had she been that distracted?

“Not for the reason I’m sure you’re imagining, unfortunately.” Sharpe replied, and her smile was a little tight as she watched Snart approach her. “It’s just recon.”

“We know how to case banks.” Rory interjected, nonchalant. “We’re practically bankers.”

“Except we take the money out.” Snart supplemented as he walked around the bridge.

Sharpe let out a heavy sigh. “I’m aware. But, as I said, we’re not stealing anything.” Her attention moved to Sara for a moment, and the ex-assassin nodded at the silent question in her eyes. There was no way in hell she’d let the captain go alone. “Sara and I can take care of this.”

And, just like that, Rory was in front of the time traveler, glaring at her. He didn’t look friendly.

“Listen, Pantsuit. I’m getting bored being stuck on this tin can.” He stated. “And when I get bored, I make bad decisions.” Sara took an almost unconscious step toward the man at the implied threat, her fingers flexing as her entire body tensed in anticipation.

Snart got to them before she could, placing himself between Sharpe and Rory. “Now, now, now.” He then placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “We’re all on the same side here. My hot-headed friend and I just want to be useful. That’s all.”

Sharpe merely nodded, holding Rory’s gaze, unflinching. Nothing about her general demeanor so much as indicated any trace of tension, and Sara found herself frowning in confusion.

“Duly noted.” She finally said, and the smile on her face actually seemed pretty honest. Then, she dragged her gaze from Rory to Snart. “You could start by giving me back the key you just stole.” She held out her hand to the thief, who smirked in response.

“Sorry.” Snart said, but he didn’t appear very apologetic as he took some sort of device out of his pocket and placed it on Sharpe’s outstretched palm.

Sara’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. Maybe it had been the distance between them, or her keeping her attention on Rory, but she hadn’t noticed Snart stealing that. Then again, he was a decent thief, she supposed.

“Jax is still fixing the jump ship.” Sharpe said, her fingers closing around the small object. “What do you want with it?” Oh, so that strange device was the key to the jump ship. Sara filed that small piece of information away for future consideration. Perhaps she’d come to need it sometime soon.

Snart shrugged. “I’m simply interested in knowing how the ship works, if we are going to be here for a long time.” He wasn’t even trying to sound convincing, as the sarcasm in his voice was very far from subtle. There was no way in hell Sharpe would fall for that.

“Of course.” The captain’s answering smile was dry as she spoke, but she held out the device for Snart to take all the same. “Here.”

Sara’s eyes bulged in surprise as she watched Snart take the key, surprise flashing in his own eyes. Sharpe might as well have grown a second head. Was she just _giving_ the pair of felons the keys to a very important time traveling vehicle?

“The jump ship can’t time travel as it is now.” Sharpe spoke again before someone could question her attitude. “Go to a bar or whatever it is you two are up to these days. Just don’t start a fight, be as discreet as possible.” She walked past the man, heading out. “And, next time, just ask.”

No one said a word as the time traveler left the bridge, and Sara was quick to follow her. She fell into step with the captain easily, still staring at her. The ex-assassin could barely believe what she had seen, but, now that she thought about it, it made some sense.

Sharpe hadn’t hesitated to hand over the reins during their first mission and had encouraged them to try again instead of reprimanding them for their abysmal failure. She was a peculiar little thing, for sure.

“You’re big on this trust thing, aren’t you?” Sara finally asked, her voice overpowering the sound of her steps on the silent corridor. She was looking at Sharpe, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

The captain shrugged, a bit too nonchalant. “We’re a team. We need to be able to trust each other, if we want this to work. Besides, he’d try to steal it again. I thought it’d be better to use this as an opportunity to get closer to them both.” Something crossed her face then, but it vanished too fast for Sara to decipher what it had been.

“What if he screws up the timeline?” The ex-assassin settled for asking. She still wondering what the last straw would be, what would it take for Sharpe to finally snap at them. So far, Sara hadn’t had much luck in finding out.

“Then we’ll fix it.” Sharpe shrugged again, as if breaking something like the timeline wasn’t that big of a deal. She just kept surprising Sara, didn’t she? “But I don’t think he will, even if he wants to. Time wants to happen.”

There was something about her wording, about her voice. She sounded almost angry, resentful. It made Sara frown.

“You talk about time like it’s a person.” She retorted, not bothering to mask her confusion.

Sharpe’s following chuckle was humorless, if not downright bitter. “Time is-” She trailed off and chewed on her lower lip. “It’s like a child with a magnifying glass and a handful of ants. It’s cruel. It doesn’t matter if the cruelty is intentional or not.”

And Sara didn’t know how to answer. Therefore, she just nodded and continued to follow Sharpe down the path that led to the fabrication room.

They still had a mission to complete, after all.

**\- LOT -**

It would still take some time for Sara to get used to everything that time travel entailed, but the clothes were something she could learn to appreciate. She was currently dressed like an elegant, rich woman from the 70s, heading to the bank where Savage kept his money.

Sharpe walked beside her, also dressed according to the era. Her dark-grey coat covered the white dress she wore underneath almost entirely. Her hair was up, styled in an elegant and complicated bun. She was wearing high heels which made her look intimidating and widened the height difference between them, despite Sara’s own heels, and she held a metal briefcase in her left hand.

She looked pretty- no, she looked _hot_ , if Sara could say so herself. The ex-assassin had never been one to not appreciate beauty when she saw it.

Sharpe opened the glass door, and the duo walked into the bank together. They walked past a pair of guards, and Sara’s eyes were immediately drawn to the initiation burns on their necks.

 _South African mercenaries_. She had encountered some during her League years. This whole thing wouldn’t be as easy as Sara had first thought, then. She’d have to warn Sharpe as soon as she had the chance.

The captain, for her part, went over to the receptionist’s counter, and Sara stopped half a step behind, keeping her eyes on the woman on the other side of the counter as Sharpe put her metal briefcase on the flat surface.

“Good morning.” Sharpe smiled at the receptionist, and it was polite – charming, even. Her make-up got rid of the worse of the bags under her eyes and added a much-needed blush to her cheeks. She quite looked the part of beautiful, rich girl. “We’d like to deposit some family heirlooms.”

The receptionist simply stared at her for a moment, and Sara wondered who thought it’d be a good idea to let this woman be the one to greet their clients. She didn’t look very friendly.

“I’m sorry, we’re a private bank.” The receptionist said, keeping that irritating fake smile in place. “We don’t secure valuables worth less than $10 million.”

Sara heard a small chuckle coming from Sharpe and watched the captain open the briefcase. Then, Sharpe spun it so the receptionist could see what it was inside.

“That’s a good thing. These are doubloons from the wreck of the Esplinade.” Sara really couldn’t tell if Sharpe was simply bullshitting her way in, but she seemed convincing, not the least put out by the receptionist’s general demeanor. “Worth $10 million, each.”

The receptionist’s smile turned bigger, and she nodded. Sara wondered if the woman thought that one or both of them had killed their filthy-rich husband to get the inheritance. She supposed it did not matter, so long as they got what they needed.

Finally, the receptionist led them out of the lobby, and Sara caught a brief glimpse of a gun behind the counter as she passed – a silenced Beretta. Not standard for a bank receptionist. Sara also filed that small piece of information away so she could tell Sharpe later – a change of plans was needed.

The captain and the ex-assassin were led to an office where a man wearing a grey suit was waiting for them. He introduced himself as Cameron Blake and motioned for them to sit as the receptionist explained the situation – Sara had no doubts that the woman had an idea of why they were there.

Then the receptionist left, and the Blake guy turned to the time travelers. Sharpe stood up, and he kissed her hand.

“Such a pleasure.” He smiled at the captain, no doubt trying to be charming. But it was his hands Sara had her eyes on. Calloused hands. And those were very familiar callouses. “You won’t regret your decision. The Brümberg Group is known for its discretion.” He said as he took the briefcase from Sharpe.

The captain merely smiled back at him. “I imagine there’ll be a fair amount of paperwork to sign.”

“Not too much.” He replied, always polite, friendly. Sara didn’t believe it for a moment. “We like to cut through the red tape here. Let me get this to one of our safe deposit boxes. And I’ll get my secretary to move in on this paperwork.” Finally, he left.

Sara didn’t move from her chair for a long moment, gazing at Sharpe as the captain watched Blake walk away. Then, Sharpe quickly walked around the desk and sat on the chair behind it, her quick fingers moving over the white computer keyboard. The whole thing was, quite honestly, ancient, and, not for the first time, Sara had to remind herself that she wasn’t in 2016 anymore.

“There’s something here called ‘The Vessel’...” Sharpe chewed on her lower lip, frowning at the screen. “What could it be?”

Sara got up from her chair and placed a hand on the desk, trying to get Sharpe’s attention, but the other blonde’s eyes never moved away from the screen.

“We have a problem.” The ex-assassin stated. This was perhaps the only chance she’d have to tell Sharpe about what she had observed before Blake inevitably came back with the rest of his small army to kill them both.

Sharpe still wouldn’t look at her, and her fingers never stopped moving over the keyboard. “Many problems. None of Savage’s funds seem to be in this bank, I have no idea what this vessel is, and I don’t know if I can find out before our new friend comes back to kill us.”

Sara’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “You know.”

“Of course.” Sharpe finally turned to her. “The receptionist had a silenced Beretta under her desk. The guards are South African mercenaries. I saw the initiation burns on their neck, as I’m certain you did too. Mr. Blake has calluses in his right hand that tell me he’s a Kuroda-trained swordsman. And I know you have the same calluses.”

The ex-assassin couldn’t seem to find her voice, and so she stood in silence, gaping at the captain. Sharpe, for her part, let out a chuckle.

“I may not have your training, Sara, but I’m not exactly useless.” She seemed good-humored, and her eyes went back to the computer screen as she started typing again.

Sara found herself frowning at that. It wasn’t a lie. Sharpe had been perfectly able to keep up with her back at Savage’s mansion, despite her comment about how the serum had damaged her body. The captain was a decent fighter – decent was actually an understatement. And her observational skills were on par, it seemed.

Where did she learn all that?

“Where did you train, and for how long?” The ex-assassin asked, placing both hands on the desk. She leaned forward, trying to catch the other woman’s eye.

For a second, Sharpe’s fingers froze over the keyboard. “That’s a...” She cleared her throat. “Very complicated question.” She said, wincing.

“I thought you said you’d answer all of our questions.” Sara retorted, frowning. Just what was the time traveler hiding?

“As long as they’re not about my personal life, yes.” Sharpe replied not a heartbeat later, removing the gun hidden under her coat and fitting a silencer into it. Sara didn’t have to turn around and see to know what the captain had seen behind her.

The sound of footsteps and someone cocking a gun was enough of a hint.

Sharpe got up from her chair, gun in hand, but her eyes were on Sara. “Ready?”

The ex-assassin nodded, and so the duo made their way out of the office. As she had expected, all the problems she had detected earlier were there: the mercenaries, the receptionist and her Beretta, Blake and his sword.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sharpe raise her gun and point it at the receptionist, who was aiming her own gun at them, but Sara’s body moved on its own, anyway. She grabbed one of the knives hidden in her coat and hurled it, hitting the woman right in the neck.

And, just like that, she was back in the Lazarus Pit, surrounded by freezing water, the cold seeping into her bones. The blood that started to pool around the fallen receptionist was the only thing she could see, and her soul ached for its warmth, for _anything_ that could pull her out of the cold.

“I had her.” Sharpe’s voice was a muffled sound, like something that came from the surface while Sara drowned underwater and, for a second, the ex-assassin hated her for it.

Still, Sharpe wasn’t what she was looking for. Not now, anyway.

“You can thank me later.” She pated the captain’s arm, more on impulse than for any other reason, while her other hand reached for another knife hidden under her coat. She barely noticed Sharpe’s wide eyes before turning away from the time traveler and heading for the guards.

The first guard came, and the feeling of sinking the blade in his neck was akin to putting on a coat after being exposed to the cold for too long. Warm, comforting, _addicting_ , and Sara relished in it as she kicked another guard who approached her, sending him stumbling backwards.

She pulled another knife from the scabbard wrapped around her thigh and, suddenly, she was face to face with Blake. He was holding a sword, just like she had imagined he would, and she smiled.

Sara could barely feel her fingers holding her own blade through the cold engulfing her skin, and her very soul chanted for his blood to warm it up.

“Seems you brought a knife to a swordfight.” Blake said, and his voice was as muffled as Sharpe’s had been before. Her ears felt like they were full of the pit’s water, even though a part of her brain knew she was no longer there, that she was no longer _drowning_.

Her soul ached for more warmth, for more _blood_ , and, when Blake moved to attack her first, Sara kicked him straight in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards. He was quick to recover and tried again, only for her to dodge his blade two consecutive times and punch him in the face. The man dodged her second punch and spun, his blade diving for her shoulder.

Sara grabbed his arm and threw him over her shoulder, stealing his sword in the process. Another guard came from behind her, and the ex-assassin spun, sliding the blade across his chest. The red that spilled from the wound as the man fell to the ground was warm, and Sara needed _more_.

 _More. More, more moremoremoremore_ -

“Sara?” The voice that called for her was no longer recognizable through the muffling in her ears, and so Sara ignored it in favor of turning to Blake again. He was still on the ground, where she’d left him, and so she raised his sword. “Sara, stop! We didn’t get anything from the computer! _We need him alive!_ ”

The blade stopped right in front of Blake’s neck, drawing blood from the small cut it opened there. Sara’s hands trembled as she held the sword, and her head shot up, her eyes finding Sharpe’s own.

What had she done?

**\- LOT -**

The walk back to the Waverider was tense and, after she helped Sharpe lock up Blake, Sara couldn’t get away from the captain fast enough. She rushed to the corridor and heard the steps that trailed behind her as the taller blonde followed her down the hall.

“Sara.” Sharpe called, but Sara simply kept walking. She could still remember the captain’s wide eyes, the way she looked at her. She didn’t want to see it again. “Sara, can you, _please_ , wait? We need to talk.”

“About what?” The ex-vigilante retorted, not bothering to turn to the other woman, and she never stopped walking. She willed her voice not to break, to sound calm and collected, even as the guilt amassed in her chest and threatened to suffocate her. “You know I’m a killer. Isn’t that why I was put in this little group?”

“That wasn’t all that happened back there and you know it.” Sharpe was quick to retort, appearing unaffected by her demeanor. “Look, you don’t have to talk about it. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

This made Sara stop, and she turned to face Sharpe.

“If _I’m_ okay?” She asked, not bothering to mask the bitterness that spilled from her voice. “You- you watched me kill all those people like-” She couldn’t quite breathe, and the weight in her chest felt overwhelming, but she forced herself to go on either way. “Like- like an animal. And all you want to ask me is if _I’m okay?_ ”

She didn’t understand this woman. Sharpe had seen Sara massacre those people in the bank. How could she still look at her like- _like that?_ Like she was worried about Sara, not scared of her. Not like Sara thought she’d been scared at the bank.

Sharpe looked at her like-

Sara was quick to banish that particular train of thought away. It was impossible – especially after what happened at the bank.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” The captain retorted; her eyebrows drawn together. “And, of course, I’m worried about you. I’m always worried about you, Sara.”

Yes, this was it then. Sharpe knew her from another timeline – _another life_ , she could call it. Sara was simply a ghost of someone the captain had cared about, a ghost of someone who was probably so much better than she was at the moment. Maybe better than she’d ever be, now that the timeline was changing.

Sara tried and failed to swallow the lump in her throat. “Do you know how I was resurrected?”

 _Did the other Sara tell you_ , was what she really wanted to ask.

Sharpe averted her gaze for a moment before she looked at Sara again. “The Lazarus Pit. I know.” She said, and her eyes were so soft, so gentle, that Sara couldn’t bring herself to hold her gaze.

The ex-assassin looked away. “Well, apparently there’s a downside to being brought back to life.”

“The bloodlust.” Sharpe’s voice was no more than a whisper, and Sara nodded in response.

“That’s what my friend Thea calls it.” Sara went on, still refusing to look at the other blonde. “But I think that’s being too generous. So is calling myself an animal.” No word in any vocabulary she knew seemed to be enough to describe the disgusting creature she was, a demon who walked this earth.

Sometimes she hated Laurel for bringing her back, for condemning the world to a _thing_ like her.

“ _I’m a monster_.” Sara stated, because that was possibly the only word she knew that could convey even a fraction of what she was, of the destruction she brought, the pain she caused.

“You’re not.” Sharpe retorted not a heartbeat later, and Sara let out a bitter laughter.

“And how would _you_ know?” She asked, poison dripping from her tone.

It didn’t matter that Sharpe apparently knew some version of her. The captain was too gentle, too trusting, too _naïve_ to ever understand what she was, it seemed. Because otherwise how could she stand to care about someone like her? The other Sara must have tricked Sharpe somehow, like the monster she was, because _this_ , their _friendship_...

 _It didn’t make any sense_.

The humorless chuckle that escaped Sharpe’s throat in response caused a chill to run down Sara’s spine. “There are enough mirrors on this ship, I assure you. I know exactly what a monster looks like.” There was so much loathing in the captain’s voice, loathing that was directed at no one but herself, that, for a moment, Sara stopped breathing.

“What are you talking about?” The ex-assassin choked out, her voice nothing more than a whisper. Finally, she turned to the taller blonde again.

Sharpe said nothing for what felt like a long time, staring into space, her face carefully blank. But then, her jaw clenched, and Sara watched her swallow right before the captain started speaking.

“I didn’t go after you right away.” She stated, and her voice was tearful, wavering, barely audible. Sara held her breath, afraid that the sound would prevent her from hearing the captain’s distressed words. “After- after my team died, I-” Sharpe cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I stayed in the temporal zone for a while, letting myself drown in my misery. In my hatred. And then I-”

Her voice broke again, and Sara watched Sharpe take her hand to her mouth. The tall blonde took a deep breath, and another, and another, and another. Finally, her breathing evened, and something chilling settled in her eyes. For the first time, there was no pain in there. There was just...

 _Nothing_.

Sara swallowed, and Sharpe continued to talk.

“I killed a baby, a long time ago.” She stated, and her voice was so devoid of emotion that it made Sara’s breath hitch. “He would grow up and, someday, he would kill everyone I’ve ever loved, so I went back in time, hunted him down and killed him.” Her words were slow, steady, even as tears filled her eyes, which looked so unreadable now.

Sara stared at the time traveler, wide-eyed. Her mouth was dry, and her throat felt like it’d closed in on itself. She said nothing, waiting for the other woman to continue her story.

Sharpe went on, her voice not any more expressive than it had been before. “And I didn’t do it to protect this timeline, to make sure he wouldn’t destroy it too.” She smiled then, and it was full of misery, of resentment, so much that Sara could barely stand to look at it. “I did it because I wanted to, because I was angry. I stabbed him. And, for a moment, I felt...” She swallowed. “I felt fine. I felt like I could breathe again.”

The captain continued to stare into space as she spoke. Sara wondered if she was remembering it, how she’d killed the person who killed her team – it was likely.

“So, I did it again.” Sharpe said, her voice never wavering. “And again, and again. I kept stabbing him long after he died.” Her miserable grin finally vanished, and she looked up at the ceiling. “It was the first time I felt happy after he killed them.”

Sara swallowed again, and her heart hammered against her ribcage. She said nothing, still feeling like her throat was closed, making it impossible for her to utter a single word. The silence did not last long, however, as Sharpe continued her tale.

“It wasn’t enough.” The captain said, still staring at the ceiling. “So, I went after the Order of the Shrouded Compass for what they did to Nora, and I killed all of them.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “And it wasn’t fast. They took a while to die. I still can’t even find it in myself to regret it, you know? I just...” She took a deep breath. “I feel nothing.”

Sara stared at the other woman, watching as she finally looked away from the ceiling. The captain turned to her, and the ex-assassin found herself frozen under her gaze.

“You never trained to deal with magic, Sara.” The change of topic was so sudden that it gave the ex-assassin backlash. She’d almost forgotten how this entire conversation had started. “And what brought you back to life was _really_ dark magic. The effect it has on you? It isn’t your fault. You’re not to blame for things that are out of your control, and I wish you’d understand that.”

The ex-assassin wanted to argue, wanted to disagree. But, when Sara opened her mouth to do so, she found that no words came out. She closed her mouth again, unable to take her eyes off Sharpe, and the woman smiled sadly at her before she spoke again.

“I didn’t kill all those people because something took my choice away.” She stated, and there was a hint of _something_ in her voice now, something Sara couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I did it for no other reason than being angry. At them, at myself, at-” Her voice faltered – _finally_ – and it was tearful when she went on. “At this _entire fucking world_.”

Sharpe took a hand to her face and wiped a lone tear that escaped. Then, she turned to Sara again, and she closed the distance between them with small, slow steps.

Sara stood there, frozen, as Sharpe’s hand went to her face, fingers carefully moving to push this one blonde lock behind her ear. “So, please, don’t be so harsh on yourself, Sara. There is, indeed, a monster here.” The smile that appeared on her face then was one of the saddest things that Sara had ever seen. “But it’s not you.”

Sharpe didn’t wait for Sara to answer before she walked past the ex-assassin, leaving her behind, and Sara felt like she only started breathing again when the sound of the captain’s footsteps finally vanished down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, y'all. here I am again. I'm sorry it took me this long to update. this chapter was kinda difficult to write
> 
> first things first, I'd like to thank every single one of you for the support you've given this fic. every comment, kudo, bookmark and view means the world to me. I'll be replying to your comments from last chapter as soon as I can, I promise
> 
> now, please, let me know what you think of this chapter, what you think will happen next, maybe tell me things you want to happen. as long as I can fit it into the storyline, I'm very open to suggestions. and I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter
> 
> again, I'd like to thank my beta @Caffinate_Me for all the help.
> 
> that's all, I guess. see ya!


	7. Sara VI

Sara’s mind was still replaying the recent conversation when her body started moving on its own, her feet taking her through the silent, empty corridor. She quickly found herself in her new room, and the doors closed behind her as the lights came on.

The first thing she did was get rid of her coat. The fabric felt too hot, too heavy, too suffocating, and so Sara took it off and tossed it on the bed. She then leaned against the closed door behind her, allowing her head to fall back.

There was too much she needed to think about, at the moment. Sharpe’s murderous past, for instance.

Sara had not imagined something like that, not at all – not from Ava Sharpe, of all people. Sharpe, with her heartbroken eyes and her polite smile and her never-wavering trust in the team. And Sara took pride in her ability to read people, but this was a turn of events she hadn’t predicted.

‘ _I kept stabbing him long after he died._ ’

‘ _So, I went after the Order of the Shrouded Compass for what they did to Nora, and I killed all of them. And it wasn’t fast. They took a while to die._ ’

Appearances could truly be _so_ deceiving. The ex-assassin shouldn’t be surprised at this point.

Even then, that wasn’t the part that bothered her the most. Sara was no stranger to death, or to the act of killing. She had killed more than most, after all – more than Sharpe, no doubt. Sara could even understand the need for revenge. Hurting her family was a sure way to make her revert to the old habits she desperately tried to avoid, and she was the last person on this ship to judge anyone.

No, what bothered her was what Sharpe meant by sharing her story.

‘ _There is, indeed, a monster here. But it’s not you._ ’

Ava Sharpe was pretty insistent on the idea that Sara wasn’t a monster, and her tale was supposed to convince the ex-assassin that, between the two of them, the captain was obviously the worst. It didn’t sit well with Sara in the least.

Because, somehow, Sharpe had managed to stop. She had managed to get a grip of herself and do something other than bring pain to the world – the captain was actually trying to _save_ the fucking world, _damn it_! She had found a way to control her demons, instead of letting them control her.

And Sara hadn’t. The ex-assassin doubted she ever would, in fact.

She wondered how Sharpe had done it. What had made her stop? What had been the turning point for her? Could Sara-

She shook her head to get rid of that particular train of thought. It just wasn’t possible. Not for her, of all people, no matter what Sharpe had said. She had spilled too much blood, caused too much pain – even before the bloodlust. She couldn’t come back from that.

No, what she needed was a distraction. Something to keep her mind away from the cold that was still making her skin tingle. And so, she pushed herself away from the door and turned around just as it opened, an idea flashing in her mind.

There was a perfect distraction sitting in this ship, after all.

Sara had almost reached the room where Blake was locked up when she realized that she wasn’t the only one to have that idea.

Sharpe’s eyes shot to her hairline, and surprise filled her now bloodshot eyes. She had been crying, Sara realized. “What are you doing here?” The captain asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

“We still have to interrogate Blake.” Sara replied, willing her words not to waver. She still wanted to ask more, to question how Sharpe had managed to get over her murderous habits, but the words never left her mouth. Instead, they sat on her tongue, waiting for the appropriate moment.

The mission. She had to focus on their current mission.

Sharpe took a second too long to reply. “We do.” She averted her gaze from Sara and swallowed.

The ex-assassin watched the captain take a deep breath and turn to the nearby door, which opened as soon as Sharpe walked toward it. Sara followed her inside the brig – a simple rectangular room with a cell in the middle, with three transparent walls through which they could see Blake, tied to a chair.

Sara moved to stand beside Sharpe as the captain stopped in front of the glass wall, staring at their prisoner. “I’m going to keep this simple for you, Mr. Blake.” Sharpe stated, her voice unwavering. Her shoulders were squared, and her hands were clasped behind her back. “Tell us where Savage’s fortune is.”

The man inside the cell smirked. “I don’t know.” His voice was taunting, and it caused that ever-present part of Sara to wish she had killed him back at the bank. However, she settled for dragging her gaze from him to Sharpe just in time to see the captain’s jaw clench slightly and then relax.

“I wonder...” Sharpe said, and her voice was as devoid of emotion as it had been when the captain told Sara about her past. “If I break and rip out all of your fingers...” Sara saw Blake swallow. He was quite a good actor, but not perfect. “Will you know, then?”

He offered her no answer, and Sara’s eyes traveled back to the woman standing beside her. Sharpe continued to stare ahead, at their prisoner, and her face was calm and collected, as unflinching as her voice sounded.

It made Sara wonder which part of her was real, the heartbroken captain or the unapologetic killer.

“I’ll ask again.” Sharpe stated, her voice never wavering. “Where’s Vandal Savage’s fortune?”

“Vandal Savage.” Blake repeated, staring ahead, although he didn’t particularly look at neither of the women. “Is that the name you know him by?”

Sharpe tilted her head to the side a bit. “Is there another I’m supposed to know about?”

The prisoner’s smirk came back, and Sara found herself narrowing her eyes at him. “Your actions against my master cause me to assume that you’re a part of the Order of Gareeb, so I’d expect it.”

A deep crease settled in Sara’s brow, and she turned to Sharpe in time to see the woman avert her gaze to her as well. The captain’s eyebrows were drawn together, and it was obvious that she also didn’t know what he was talking about.

The ex-assassin then turned to Blake again. “Gareeb?”

His eyes landed on her. “It’s a legend passed down for four thousand years. When my master was first bestowed the gift of eternal life, an enemy tried to kill him.” He explained. “Every myth has its monster, its devil. For those of our order, it’s him, the Gareeb.”

Sara averted her gaze to Sharpe again, as understanding dawned on the captain’s face. Before she could ask, however, Blake continued to speak, and so Sara turned to him again.

“If I were you, I’d run.” He stated, and the ex-assassin’s frown deepened. “The Gareeb has already failed to kill my master once. His current absence tells me that his failure far extends beyond that. Your master won’t be able to protect you.” Again, his voice was taunting, and Sara felt her fingers twitching to break his neck.

“We have no master, Mr. Blake.” Sharpe retorted, and the man’s eyes snapped to her. “Sara?”

The sound of her name made Sara turn to Sharpe, who then gestured for the exit. The ex-assassin nodded and followed the captain out of the room.

The duo stood in the corridor, and, before Sharpe could utter a single word, Sara broke the silence.

“What did he mean? Who’s Gareeb?” She asked, because, even if the captain clearly hadn’t understood it at first, she had put the pieces together soon enough.

Sharpe sighed. “As I told you, Rip was supposed to assemble the Legends, not me.” Oh, yeah, the mysterious Rip Hunter, the man whose premature demise cause an entire timeline to crumble. An interesting person, if Sara could say so herself. “Savage killed his family, and Rip tried to kill him before Savage became immortal.” Sharpe shook her head. “Needless to say, it didn’t work.”

Sara nodded, pressing her lips together as a new train of thought invaded her brain. The discussion she’d had with Sharpe before was still fresh in her mind, and it called her attention to a particular possibility – one that could make all their lives so much easier, as cruel as it was.

“Why didn’t you do it?” The ex-assassin asked, and the captain raised an eyebrow. “I mean...” She trailed off. Instead, Sara closed her right hand into a fist and made a stabbing gesture towards her left hand, hoping that the other woman would get it.

Sharpe winced. “I know what you mean. And I can’t.” The captain looked away. “I’ve run enough simulations to know that erasing Savage from history would only mean that someone else would take his place.” When she turned to Sara again, there was a small, sad smile on her lips. “Besides, I need him to be here for us to stop him.”

A deep crease formed in Sara’s brow before understanding dawned on her. She remembered what Sharpe had said not even forty-eight hours prior. ‘ _I told you that each of you, as individuals, is very important to the survival of this world. I wasn’t lying about that, even if I lied about the rest._ ’

“You were never here just to stop Savage.” Sara stated. “You came to assemble this team.”

There was something very casual, nonchalant, about the way Sharpe shrugged in response. “This world needs the Legends, and, for the Legends to exist, Savage has to exist. For now, at least.”

Sara stared at her, at this strange woman made of pieces of a puzzle that didn’t seem to fit together at all – some pieces must have broken along the way, just as others were added.

Sharpe had gone through a great loss and she had apparently lost herself in her grief and her anger for quite some time. Still, here she was, trying to save the world, even though she’d never see the people she loved again. Sara wouldn’t pretend to understand it, but she found that she wanted to.

“How did you stop?” The ex-assassin asked, holding Sharpe’s gaze when the captain’s eyes found her, and they were filled with surprise. The question had been sudden, after all.

But Sara had to ask. She had gone through hell, but her family – her sister, her parents, her friends – were alive and well in Star City. That meant that she couldn’t quite understand what Sharpe was feeling, but Sara knew herself enough to know that, if she were to ever lose the people who were most dear to her, she’d do far worse things than the captain could even imagine.

And nothing in this world would be able to stop her.

So, how did Ava Sharpe manage to do it?

“Come again?” The captain asked, tilting her head to the side, confusion deep-seated in every line that formed her face.

“Killing.” Sara replied, and she watched as the other blonde stiffened in response. “It isn’t an easy habit to break.” And Sara, of all people, would know that all too well. “What made you stop?”

Sharpe’s features softened, and that familiar sad smile returned to her lips. “There was a fourteen-year-old girl who needed someone to look after her.” Nora, Sara realized. The witch had been that age when the captain saved her from the demon cult. “She needed a friend, not a killer.”

It sounded so simple when she spoke like that. Like going from someone capable of murdering a baby and torturing people to death was just a matter of choice. As if becoming a good person was simply a matter of deciding to do so.

And, in a way, Sara supposed it was.

“You’ll get there.” Sharpe broke the silence that settled between them, and Sara’s eyes shot to her again. The captain looked at her with a small smile, and her voice sounded nothing if not sincere, like she truly believed that Sara could become a better person, someday.

The mere idea made the ex-assassin scoff. “You would know. You saw my future.” Her tone was perhaps drier than it had to be, but the possibility that Sara could somehow redeem herself for all she had done, for all the pain she caused even before the bloodlust, was still laughable.

She, of course, believed in redemption. But it never felt like it was something _Sara_ could achieve.

Sharpe let out a chuckle, and it was actually good-natured, different from the ones Sara had heard from her before. “I actually did.” The captain replied, and then she looked away. A smile danced at the corner of her lips, and her eyes had that faraway look again. “You know, when we first met, you- she saved my life, and I wasn’t nearly as grateful for it as I should have been.”

Sara tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow in surprise and curiosity, and Sharpe went on.

The captain let out a soft chuckle, and, for a moment, she didn’t seem so sad anymore. “We didn’t get along at first, and I was awful to her, but she still saved my life.” Sharpe looked down, chewing on her lower lip. “She did it many times, actually. In more ways than one.”

Finally, Sharpe’s greyish-blue eyes found Sara again, and the ex-assassin had to force herself not to look away. Because the captain stared at her in a way that was so gentle, and Sara didn’t deserve it.

Sharpe’s soft voice then broke the silence. “The Sara Lance I knew was the bravest, kindest, most selfless person I’ve ever met.”

That made Sara avert her gaze. Those words were too kind, too good to be directed at her, and the sincere intonation with which Sharpe spoke didn’t help either. Because that person that the captain was talking about just couldn’t be her.

And it wasn’t. That was another Sara – that much was obvious, even if Sharpe didn’t refer to that other, _better_ version of her as ‘she’ instead of ‘you’. And _this_ Sara did not know if she could ever be that person. Perhaps she could’ve been, once upon a time, but, between altered timelines, time changes and so many other things she couldn’t even begin to understand, it just felt impossible.

The woman whom Sharpe talked about so fondly... Sara wasn’t her. And maybe she’d never be.

Sara licked her dry lips. “I don’t know if I can be her.” She confessed, and her voice was a small, fragile whisper. The ex-assassin looked down.

Knowing that some version of her managed to be better wasn’t as comforting as it should’ve been. Her mind still insisted on the idea that that other Sara had tricked Sharpe, somehow. And, even if it wasn’t the case, living up to the person Sharpe was describing seemed unachievable.

Because, if the other Sara _did_ become a better person, than it was nothing short of a miracle. And miracles hardly happened twice.

“I’m not asking you to be.” The sudden sound of Sharpe’s voice after a lasting silence made Sara’s eyes snap to the captain, who was still staring at her with that same fond look that the ex-assassin felt like she didn’t deserve.

Sara’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “What? You don’t want me to be the version of myself that’s actually a decent person?” She asked, and her voice was sardonic, if not bitter. Because just what the hell did Ava Sharpe expect – _want_ – from her?

But the captain didn’t even flinch at her words. “You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself, Sara.” Sharpe’s soft voice made her falter. The ex-assassin’s mouth fell open as she tried to think of a reply, only for the captain to go on before Sara could. “No version of you is better than who you are right now. You simply have to find your feet again.”

A deep crease settled in Sara’s brow. “Then why tell me about her?”

Sharpe held her gaze. “Just so you know that the bloodlust, what you’re feeling right now...” Like a monster. That was how Sara felt, _all the time_. “It won’t last forever. You’ll learn to deal with it, to control it, instead of letting it control you.” Then, the captain smiled. “You’ll be okay.”

Sara felt a lump in her throat, and she struggled to swallow it. Being okay... it sounded like nothing but a distant possibility, something she could never hope to reach. More than that, it sounded like something she didn’t deserve – not only because of the bloodlust, but because of everything she’d done before it.

Even if Sharpe had been right before, and the bloodlust was simply something she couldn’t control and it didn’t make her a monster, her actions while she was in the League were still unforgivable. The nightmare that woke her up just that morning was nothing if not a cruel reminder of that.

“I’ve killed too many people even before the bloodlust.” Sara found herself saying, because, more than anything, she _needed_ Sharpe to stop looking at her like _that_. “I can’t come back from that.”

Sharpe tilted her head to the side, and her smile dissolved into something serious and pensive.

“Do you regret it?” The captain’s question made Sara’s eyes widen in surprise.

The ex-assassin’s mind took her back to her nightmare – her _memory_. She still remembered killing that man, as if it had happened just the day before. She remembered the knife she had used to cut his throat, remembered how his body fell to the floor, unmoving. More than that, she remembered the little girl that came running into the room, screaming for her father.

And she remembered snapping her neck to shut her up.

Sara screwed her eyes shut, trying to get rid of the images that haunted her. “Everyday.” She said, her lips barely moving as the soft whisper went past them.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and her entire body stiffened. The ex-assassin actively fought the instinct to grab the limb and twist it in the most painful way as she opened her eyes to see Sharpe, who was again smiling at her, as small as the smile was.

“Regret is the first step for redemption.” The captain stated, and her voice never wavered. “You’ll get there.” She sounded so sincere, so sure, that Sara could almost believe her.

 _Almost_.

She held the other woman’s gaze. “Will you?” Sara asked, if only because she wanted to take the attention away from herself and directing it at Sharpe seemed like the best way to do it.

The captain’s grin faltered, and her hand slipped away from Sara’s shoulder. “I’m not sure I have enough time to atone for all I did.” She averted her gaze. “I’ve gathered a considerable collection of sins since I lost my family.” _Family_. Not team.

Once again, Sara felt like she could not quite grasp the extent of the hurt that Sharpe had endured – was _still_ enduring. She opened her mouth, although she wasn’t sure what she’d say, but, before she could utter a word, the captain spoke again.

“I never planned to stay for long, Sara.” The words were soft, a whisper that perhaps wasn’t meant to be heard, and Sara stared at Sharpe as the woman continued to look at anything but her.

The ex-assassin was suddenly reminded that the captain wasn’t supposed to be there. She did not belong in this timeline, and a painful serum was the only thing keeping her from vanishing. Sharpe wouldn’t stay forever – because she wouldn’t _last_ forever.

It didn’t sit well with Sara, much to the ex-assassin’s own surprise. Perhaps it was because, if they could barely do something right with Sharpe, then what the hell could they even expect to achieve _without_ her?

The captain, however, put that same gentle smile back in place, as if the idea of dying didn’t faze her in the least. “Now, shall we go back?” She asked, and Sara simply nodded in response.

The pair made their way back into the brig, and Blake stared at them as they stood side by side in front of the glass wall again. Sara crossed her arms, and Sharpe clasped her hands behind her back once more.

“Let’s try this again.” Sharpe broke the silence, and the kindness that had inhabited her tone when she spoke to Sara before had vanished completely. Instead, her words were hard, cold, and Sharpe stared at Blake with a freezing look to match.

The man inside of the cell smirked, unaffected. “Back for more.”

Sharpe ignored him. “Where’s Savage’s fortune?” She asked, but his smirk just widened, and he gave her no response. “I’m actually very interested in something called ‘The Vessel’.” Sara nodded to herself – she remembered the captain mentioning that back at the bank.

“The vessel is my master’s most treasured possession.” Blake replied soon enough, all too willing. It made Sara narrow her eyes at him – she found it hard to believe that he’d just start cooperating.

No, there was something else. He was planning something.

Sara turned to Sharpe, who was raising an eyebrow at Blake. “And where can we find it?”

Again, the man didn’t take long to answer. “The Greyhill Building.” He said, as his smirk became wider and wider, showing his teeth. “There’s a gathering tonight in celebration of it.”

There it was – that was his plan. Whatever gathering he was talking about was bound to be filled with other members of Savage’s weird cult. And, if Blake himself and the rest of the bank’s staff were anything to go by, the other cult members wouldn’t be exactly defenseless.

“And clearly you want us to go so we can get ourselves killed.” Sara interjected; her voice dry.

Blake let out a snort. “Clearly.”

Sara’s fingers gripped her arm as she tried to reign in the part of herself who wanted to barge into the cell and snap a few of his bones – his neck, preferably. It wasn’t the time, and she would rather not let those urges control her.

‘ _Just so you know that the bloodlust, what you’re feeling right now... It won’t last forever. You’ll learn to deal with it, to control it, instead of letting it control you. You’ll be okay._ ’

And, while Sara didn’t exactly believe that Sharpe was right, she hoped for it. Hoping was all she could do, after all.

Sharpe, for her part, broke the silence, tilting her head to the side. “What’s the vessel?”

“It’s the remains of Prince Khufu of the Middle Kingdom.” Blake replied, averting his gaze to the captain. Sara’s body stiffened as she heard his answer. “I believe you know him as Carter Hall.”

 _Fuck_ , Carter. Carter who had died when they attacked Savage’s mansion. Carter whose body they hadn’t brought back to the ship, because of the rush to save Sharpe’s life.

“What is Savage going to do with Carter’s body?” Sara asked, barely able to keep herself from frowning. She continued to watch the man inside of the cell, and she could see his teeth as he held her gaze, a predatory smile on his mouth.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Sara had been right, then. He wanted them to go to the gathering at the Greyhill Building – it was bound to be a trap. And he hoped to use Carter’s body as a way to convince them.

The ex-assassin turned to the woman standing beside her, mouth open to ask what their next step would be, but Sharpe was already walking away, out of the room. A deep frown settled in Sara’s brow as she followed the captain back to the corridor.

“Sharpe-” She started to say, because there was no way in hell that the captain hadn’t noticed that the whole thing was just a trap for them. And, if she hadn’t, then Sara had to tell her, and fast. But, before she could, Sharpe’s own voice interrupted hers.

Her words weren’t directed at Sara, though. Instead, they were directed at the two people standing on the corridor. “Ray, Kendra, you-”

The sound of the ex-CEO’s voice swallowed the captain’s. “Gideon told us about-”

“We have to stop him.” Kendra interrupted him, staring at Sharpe with bloodshot eyes as she took a step toward the captain. Desperation bled from her voice. “I-I don’t know what he’s going to do with Carter’s body, but we can’t let it happen.” Then, a steely resolve settled in her face. “I won’t let it happen.”

“I agree.” Sharpe answered, and Sara cursed under her breath. Hell, how was a resurrected former assassin the only person with common sense on this damn timeship?! “Gideon, locate the Greyhill Building and set a course.”

Then, Sara grabbed Sharpe’s arm, and the captain’s eyes shot to her. “Wait. We have a plan.” She reminded the other woman. There was no way in hell that Sharpe wasn’t aware that it was a trap. So, why was she going along with it? For Kendra? “Going after-”

“ _AVA SHARPE!_ ”

Sara let go of Sharpe’s arm and cursed under her breath again, because, apparently, no one would be completing a single sentence anytime soon. Then, the ex-assassin turned to see a furious Nora approaching with quick, heavy steps.

“This took longer than I expected.” Sara heard Sharpe mutter, as close as they were to each other.

Nora stomped toward the captain, fuming. “What part of ‘don’t do anything stupid did you fail to understand?!” She shouted, and Sara found herself cringing a little. Sharpe, however, didn’t even seem fazed, and she put a hand to the livid witch’s shoulder.

“You can yell at me later, Nora.” The captain stated, and the witch bristled at her unaffected tone. “Now, we have a mission.”

Nora shrugged Sharpe’s hand off her shoulder. “ _We have a mission._ ” She repeated, her voice full of mockery. Then, the witch hit the captain on the chest once, twice, three times; and Sharpe tried and failed to protect herself from the slaps. “You’re lucky I can’t use magic on you, you dick.”

Sara filed that small piece of information away for future consideration as, finally, Nora took two steps back, and Sharpe offered the witch a smile, despite the recent events. “That’s the spirit.”

Nora glared at her but remained silent, and Sara took the opportunity to chime in.

“We should at least go in with the rest of the team.” She stated, because, if they would really make the stupid mistake of going to that damn gathering, they might as well be as prepared as one could be.

Sharpe winced, and Sara half-expected her to insist on going alone, just as she had done about the bank. Instead, the captain let out a heavy sigh and looked up, at the ceiling. “Gideon?”

“I believe Mr. Stein will be answering your question, Captain.” The A.I.’s voice faded just as the sound of fast, heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, but it was soon surpassed by the sound of said professor’s voice.

“They stole the jump ship!” Stein exclaimed. He sounded breathless when he finally stopped near the group, and there was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His wide eyes were on Sharpe. “Mr. Snart and Mr. Rory convinced Jefferson to leave the Waverider with the jump ship, and they threw me out when I opposed. They are no longer aboard. I have been trying to locate them, but it was not possible.” He explained in between gasps as he struggled to compose himself.

For the umpteenth time, Sara cursed under her breath, because of course yet another thing had to go wrong. She then averted her gaze to Sharpe, only to find the captain pinching her own nose.

“How is it possible that this team is more stressful than mine?” Sharpe breathed out, and her voice was half-frustrated, half-amused. It was a peculiar combination. “I swear, you’d give me grey hair if I could have it.”

That comment caught Sara’s attention, and the ex-assassin raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What do you-”

Sharpe raised a hand to her, interrupting her. “Not the point.” Then, she let out a sigh. “I suppose we’ll have to do this by ourselves.” Something flashed in her eyes, and a smile – one that was just a bit similar to the one Sara had seen in that picture – shaped her lips. She looked almost... excited? “So, Legends, dust off your fancy dresses, because we have a party to crash.”

Sara blinked, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline.

Then, Ray chimed in, pointing at himself. “Do I have to-?”

“No, you-” Sharpe interrupted him, and her smile faltered. She let out another sigh and scratched her forehead. “She was so much better at this.” The captain shook her head, letting out a mirthless chuckle, and Sara frowned – who was _she_? But Sharpe was talking again, and she the ex-assassin filed that question away for a more opportune time. “Just get ready. I have a plan.”

Sara nodded, and she had been about to turn toward the fastest way to the fabrication room when Sharpe spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Kendra.” The captain reached out to her, placing a hand on Kendra’s shoulder just as Hawkgirl was turning to leave too. Then, Sharpe’s fingers pressed a spot that Sara knew too well, and Kendra’s eyes closed before her mouth could even open to utter a question. “You’re not going on this mission.”

Ray caught her before Kendra's body could hit the floor, and Hawkgirl remained still in his arms. Then, his dark eyes shot to Sharpe, as did the eyes of everyone else in the corridor.

“Why did you do that?!” He exclaimed right as Sara couldn’t help but let out a “What the hell?!” and Nora shouted “Ava?!” Stein was the only one to remain in silence, if only because his mouth was hanging open as he stared at Sharpe.

The captain, for her part, merely shrugged. “I’m not making the same mistake again.” She seemed pretty nonchalant about the whole thing, surprisingly, but Sara could see past the façade.

Sharpe simply didn’t want Kendra to share Carter’s fate, even if her method to achieve that turned out to be a direct contrast to what Sara had heard from her earlier in this same day.

Sara tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to trusting your team?”

“I’d rather Kendra be mad at me and alive.” Sharpe retorted not a heartbeat later. “She’s not ready to face Savage. She doesn’t have enough fighting experience yet and until she does, I’m not letting her anywhere near him.” Her eyes shone with a steely resolve, and Sara knew then that there was no arguing with her – besides, she was actually right. The captain then turned to the Atom. “Ray, take her back to her quarters and meet us at the fabrication room.”

He nodded, still seeming too stunned to speak, and Sharpe turned her back on him.

Sara rushed to the captain’s side as Sharpe began to walk away from the team in broad, fast steps. She heard Nora cursing under her breath as the witch trailed behind them, and Stein’s steps were the only indication that he was following as well. However, Sara ignored them in favor of turning her attention to the woman walking beside her.

“You actually have a plan?’ She asked in a low tone that was almost a whisper, because when the hell did Sharpe have enough time to think of a whole plan? Had it been her intention to attend the gathering even before Kendra showed up to convince her?

Sharpe chuckled. “I do. And I don’t think Nora’s going to like it.”

**\- LOT -**

Sara was sitting on the backseat of a fancy car with Blake beside her, and Ray was occupying the driver’s seat. Her fingers gripped a small knife that she fully intended to stick into Blake’s guts if the banker so much as breathed the wrong way.

The car stopped near the building’s entrance, and Sara gestured for Blake to roll down the window on his side. One of the guards standing outside greeted them.

“Ah, Mr. Blake. Welcome.” He said, and there was a polite smile on his face. Then, his eyes went to Sara, and the ex-assassin saw a hint of mischief in there before the guard turned to Blake again. “I take it Mrs. Blake is out of town?” So, the banker was married, and he was used to cheating on his wife.

This guy really was a piece of shit, wasn’t he?

Sara pressed the knife a bit more forcefully, reminding Blake to not make a wrong move. He swallowed slightly but remained otherwise composed. “That’s a... very pointed observation.” The banker replied right before he closed the window again.

Finally, Ray drove the car to the parking garage, which was conveniently empty and was also just dark enough. Sara got out of the car, as did Ray and Blake, and she went to the back of the vehicle while Ray took Sharpe and Stein out of his pocket in order to restore them to their original size.

“If you’re going to find the vessel, you’ll need my help.” Blake broke the silence. He looked a bit nervous. _Good_.

“No, I think we’ll be fine without it.” Sharpe retorted before Sara could. She was looking sinfully good in her long, sleeveless red dress. Long black gloves kept the dark veins in her left arm hidden and, once again, her heels made her appear even taller. Stein and Ray were standing on either side of her – both wearing black suits – but Sharpe dragged her gaze to the ex-assassin. “Sara.”

Sara hit him in the face – it felt _so good_ to do that after having to stop herself from killing him for several hours – and Blake fell to the trunk that Stein had just opened. Ray swallowed and took off his cap, leaving it with the unconscious man, right before Sharpe closed the trunk again.

The captain then took a hand to her ear. “We’re in.”

“ _I can see that._ ” Nora retorted, not sounding very pleased. Sharpe had been right – the witch had hated her plan. “ _Now, please, don’t get yourself killed._ ”

Sharpe chuckled. “No promises.” She tapped at her earpiece again before turning her attention to Sara, Ray and Stein. “Ready?”

The trio nodded and, finally, they made their way to the main hall.

It was well-decorated, elegant, and people talked and drank and danced throughout the room. But there was no sign of Savage or Carter’s body anywhere. It looked just like a normal gala, and Sara crossed her arms.

“Maybe we should have had Blake show us around.” She said, looking around for something that appeared suspicious, only to find nothing. It was making her nervous, even if Sharpe’s plan turned out to actually work.

“Should we go get him?” Ray chimed in, fidgeting with the lapel of his blazer.

Sharpe wasn’t looking at them when she spoke. “Not necessarily. There are still some useful ways to do recon.” Sara frowned and followed her gaze to the dance floor. She turned to Sharpe again, her frown deepening a bit.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” The ex-assassin said, and she regretted it even before Sharpe released a small chuckle. Because Sara _could_ dance, and, if they had really been friends in another life, the captain was bound to know that.

“You forget that I know you, which means I know that’s a lie.” Sharpe replied, just like Sara had predicted she would, and that faraway look was in her eyes again. It made the ex-assassin wonder about what could be going through the captain’s mind.

She tilted her head to the side. “Which one of us will lead, then?”

“We’re in 1975.” Sharpe retorted, still not looking at her. “People are even less tolerant here than they are in 2016. Two women dancing together would certainly draw unnecessary attention.” And Sara punching whatever homophobe dared to talk shit about them – because _she would_ – wouldn’t be a good way to keep their cover either. “I’ll owe you.” The captain added, shrugging.

The ex-assassin raised an eyebrow. “What do you propose, then?”

“Go with Ray.” Sharpe replied, smiling at Sara and the ex-CEO before she turned her attention to Stein, who had been nervously silent ever since they set a foot in the building. “Professor. Would you mind?” She offered him her hand.

“It would be an honor, Ms. Sharpe.” Stein smiled at her, gentle. He seemed to have developed quite a soft spot for their captain. Sara supposed it was understandable – Sharpe had fixed the situation with his wife, after all.

He took the captain’s hand and guided her toward the dance floor. Sara watched as Sharpe placed a hand on the professor’s shoulder, and Stein put a hand on her waist before they started dancing. They weren’t standing any closer than it was absolutely needed, but they were talking.

“Shall we?” Ray’s voice dragged Sara’s attention to her own dance partner, and she accepted the hand he offered her.

Just like Stein had done to Sharpe, Ray guided Sara to the dance floor. The ex-assassin put a hand to his shoulder, and he hesitated to place a hand on her waist before Sara rolled her eyes and took his hand there herself. The ex-CEO blushed, embarrassed, but they finally began moving with the soft music that filled the entire room.

Sara looked around as she danced – she was good enough at it that she didn’t need to pay a lot of attention to her moves, even if Ray kept stepping on her feet and muttering apologies. Still, there was nothing for her to see other than what she’d already assessed before – neither Savage nor Carter’s body were anywhere to be seen.

Ray’s voice caught her attention. “Do you think this will work?” He asked, swallowing as he also looked around, although Sara doubted he’d find something if she couldn’t. “I mean... our missions don’t have the best track record.” That was an understatement.

Between almost screwing up history and losing Carter, this team just seemed doomed.

Still, Sara shrugged – she wasn’t one to give up easily. “Sharpe’s plan seems pretty solid. We get some info, we grab Carter’s body, we get out.” The plan itself actually involved more danger than Sara would think advisable, but it was also their best chance to find out what exactly Savage had been planning to do with Carter’s body, and maybe that information would be useful later on.

But Ray was already nervous and, while Sara wasn’t the right person to talk some confidence into him, she thought it’d be best to keep her thoughts on the ‘danger’ part to herself.

The former CEO sighed. “I know, I’m... I’m sorry.” He swallowed again. “I’m nervous.”

“You’re not exactly wrong to be.” Sara replied and, while that might not be the reply Ray wanted, it was also not a lie. “Let’s just hope this party won’t turn into a funeral.” _Their_ funeral, at least.

Sara wouldn’t promise anything regarding Savage’s weird cult, although she’d try to keep herself from getting too violent. Maybe... just maybe... she could remain in control, instead of giving in to the bloodlust.

It was worth a try.

She looked around again, and something caught her eye. She turned to Ray. “Spin me.” She said, and, while the man frowned in confusion, he did as he was told. Her hair flew as her body moved, and she used the act of pushing the strands back to place to tap at her comm. “I found something. More of our scarred friends.”

Her eyes followed the pair of guards nearby – both had the same initiation burns Sara had seen in the bank’s security detail. And they were turning to leave the room.

“ _I can see them too._ ” Sharpe spoke through the earpiece, and Sara’s eyes looked for her and Stein for a quick second. The captain was already walking out of the dance floor, her arm linked to the professor’s. “ _They’re heading out of the room. Sara, you come with me. Ray and Stein, wait for a minute and then follow us._ ”

Sara exchanged a look with Ray before they moved toward Sharpe and Stein. The captain released the professor’s arm and offered a hand to the ex-assassin, who accepted right before the duo began making their way to the exit that they’d seen the guards take.

It led to an empty corridor, and the men were headed to a door down the hall.

“ _Ava._ ” Nora’s voice coming through the comms stopped Sara and Sharpe from going after them. “ _They found Blake and they’re heading inside. It shouldn’t take long for them to reach you._ ” Just like the captain had predicted. Sara was starting to think that this whole thing might just end up working.

“Thanks, Nora.” Sharpe replied after tapping at her earpiece.

“ _Be careful._ ” The witch’s voice came again, and it was slightly trembling. She was worried.

“I will.” Sharpe assured before she tapped her comm again. She then turned to the former assassin standing silently beside her and offered her a hand. “Sara, would you mind?”

Sara frowned for a second, but she took Sharpe’s hand. The captain then moved the ex-assassin’s arm so it’d be thrown around her shoulders, and a deep crease formed in Sara’s brow again.

“You might have drunk a bit too much.” Sharpe explained, and the ex-assassin nodded. It’d work.

She slumped against the captain’s body and allowed her to carry most of her weight as they went to the guards standing in front of the closed white doors at the end of the hall. Sara started laughing uncontrollably, while Sharpe let out a few chuckles herself, both seeming quite intoxicated.

One of the guards raised his hand as they approached. “This area’s restricted, ladies.”

Sara laughed and let go of Sharpe, stumbling toward the man. “We’re just looking for the ladies’ room.” She slurred the words, managing a chuckle in between them. “Oh!” She pretended to fall, and the guard caught her.

She looked at him with a smile before headbutting the man. Then, the ex-assassin spun and landed a kick on the other guard’s head. Both fell to the ground, unconscious, just as Stein and Ray turned the corner and headed toward them. The ex-CEO had the Atom suit gauntlet on his hand already.

Sharpe, who had bent down to steal the key from the pocket of one of the guards, averted her gaze to the rest of the group then. “Okay, we’re here. Nora said Blake is on his way. Savage should be with him.” Finally, she turned to the door and unlocked it.

Inside, the room would be completely dark if not for the lit candles. Sara tensed, but she followed Sharpe inside, with Stein and Ray trailing behind her. The group walked past white curtains, and the sight that greeted them made Sara feel something heavy in the pit of her stomach.

Carter, still clad in his suit – helmet and all – was lying on some sort of ceremonial table. Sara, as well as her companions, approached him.

Sharpe’s voice was a mere whisper when she broke the heavy silence. “Ray, you’ll shrink him so we can get him back to the ship.” She stated, even though she’d given this same instruction before.

Ray let out a shaky breath. “Sounds easy enough.”

“What do you think Savage’s planning to do with Carter’s body?” Sara asked just as Ray prepared to shrink their late teammate’s body. It wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, and perhaps a part of her didn’t actually want an answer.

The voice that answered came from no Legend. “Why not stay and find out?” It was the guy from the arms sale, the dealer. He was standing in front of the white curtains, his hands clasped in front of his body. “Ah, the followers of Gareeb. Mr. Blake has told us so much about you.” He said just as a group of men came from behind him. Blake was among them.

Sara exchanged a look with Sharpe, who simply nodded. So, when the men surrounded them and grabbed her arms, the ex-assassin didn’t fight them, neither did Sharpe, Stein or Ray. Instead, the group allowed Savage’s cult to tie their wrists and guide them out of the room, back to the corridor.

“What are you planning to do with Carter’s body?” Stein broke the silence, seeming a bit nervous.

The dealer didn’t turn to him as he responded, and so Sara couldn’t see his face, but his voice was smug. “Oh, you’ll see. Mr. Blake informs us that you were hoping to steal our master’s fortune.” He spoke, and Sara was already getting tired of the sound. “But while money has its uses, it is not the source of his power.”

“Then what is?” The ex-assassin asked, frowning.

Blake was the one who replied. “Let us show you.”

The dealer opened the doors to a room filled with red light. There was a crowd inside, all wearing capes with their hoods up. They were chanting something – “ _Hym nu seta, rash mun setta._ ” – and Sara had to admit that it was unsettling, to say the least.

“Our numbers are legion.” The dealer continued to speak, gesturing toward the man in the middle of the room. “All drawn to the man who is immune to death. Wealth is not power. Belief is.”

Vandal Savage stood in front of the table on which Carter’s body was. The immortal had his back turned to the newcomers and it was only when the mercenaries forced Sara, Sharpe, Ray and Stein to their knees that he turned to them.

He raised his hands, and the chanting stopped. “Hello, Followers of Gareeb.” Sara tried not to roll her eyes – this _again_? “How long has it been since I’ve seen your master? Four thousand years?” Savage asked, smirking. “Where’s he now?”

“He’s dead.” Sharpe stated, sounding very nonchalant. Sara looked at her out of the corner of her eye, and the captain appeared as calm as one could be. This was still going according to the plan, after all. “And you will soon join him.”

Savage’s eyes landed on Sharpe then, and his smirk widened. “Oh, I remember you.” He took one step toward her. “You look well. I didn’t think I would see you again after our last encounter, but it seems I have underestimated you.” Sharpe gave him no response, and so he went on. “You see, after what happened in St. Roch, I was afraid I wouldn’t get the chance to meet your friends once again. Well, if there’s something I’ve learned in four thousand years is patience.” He took another step towards Sharpe. “And this time I only had to wait one short day.”

He let out a derisive snort, and Sara clenched her jaw. She turned to Sharpe, waiting for the signal for her to free herself from the stupid cuffs and wipe that grin out of his face, but the captain was still staring at the immortal, unmoving and quiet.

Savage then turned to a nearby table, where a knife had been sitting. He took it. “You’re probably wondering what my plans are with your friend’s body.” The immortal gestured to Carter but kept his eyes on Sharpe – he appeared to have taken an interest in her after their fight. “I already have his life’s essence, but his blood still has its uses.”

He nodded at one of his followers, and the chanting began again as the immortal turned to Carter’s body once more. Sara clenched her jaw and watched him slide the blade across Hawkman’s throat.

“Jack the Ripper showed me the virtues of severing the carotid artery.” Savage said as he handed the dagger to one of his followers.

Sara saw the blood on Carter’s neck, and she moved to get up without thinking. The guard beside her placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her – it would be simple enough to get rid of him, even with her hands tied, but his interruption only served to remind her that she couldn’t attack yet.

Not until Sharpe gave the _damn sign_. What was the captain even waiting for?

The ex-assassin closed her eyes when Savage started to fill a chalice with Carter’s blood, and she opened them again in time to see the immortal drink from it. The sight made her feel sick.

“Centuries ago, I discovered that, although immortality is mine alone, I can share a taste with my faithful.” Savage explained, handing the chalice to the arms sale’s dealer, who then drank from it as well. “Help them live an extra hundred years or so.”

Around them, the cult members, who had been on their knees, began to get up. The dealer, for his part, handed the chalice to Blake, who also drank from it.

Savage gestured to the guards, who grabbed Sara, Sharpe, Ray and Stein by their arms in order to force them to get up. Then, the immortal stood in front of the captain.

“When I first met your master-” He started to speak, only for Sharpe to interrupt him.

“As I told Mr. Blake, we have no master, Mr. Savage.” She sounded all too calm when she spoke. _No_ , not calm, Sara realized a heartbeat later – emotionless. Just like before, back at the Waverider, when Sharpe shared some of her story.

Savage tilted his head to the side. “Interesting. Why, then? Why do you seek to kill me?”

Sharpe shrugged, and it made the guard behind her tighten his hold on her arms. “Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t personal. Just business.” Again, there was no trace of emotion in her voice, only a coldness that cause a shiver to run down Sara’s spine.

“ _Wasn’t_?” Savage repeated, raising both eyebrows in curiosity.

“I care about my team, Mr. Savage.” Sharpe replied, and her expression hardened then, as did her voice. She wasn’t as unaffected by this whole thing as she wanted to seem, Sara realized. “And I will always protect them.”

It always came back to that with the captain, didn’t it? Her team – the family she had lost. It made Sara wonder just how far this woman would go to protect them all, even if they weren’t the people she had known.

Savage snorted, and his eyes were full of mockery as he turned to Carter for a quick second before he dragged his gaze back to Sharpe. “It seems to me that you failed to protect him.”

The captain didn’t miss a heartbeat. “Then I’ll avenge him.” She said, and her voice was sure and calm, as if she were stating a mere fact – not a threat, not a promise. “It wasn’t personal. But it is, now.”

The immortal in front of her smirked, and he dragged his gaze first to Sara, then to Ray and finally to Stein before his attention went to Sharpe once again. “I look forward to killing the rest of your team, then.” Then, he turned his back on the captain, walking back to where Carter’s body stood.

He turned to them again only when Stein spoke. “This is a perversion.” He stated, sounding every bit appalled by what he had seen. Sara didn’t blame him – even she could find it in herself to share the sentiment.

“No.” Savage retorted, and all his sarcasm, all his mockery, were gone. Instead, he looked almost aggressive – or _downright_ aggressive, in reality. “This is the power none of you have hope of ever defeating. Everyone here is sworn to live and die at my command. Why? Because to them I am a god!” His voice echoed through the room, and Sara clenched her jaw to the point she was almost afraid her teeth would shatter. “I pity you. You have no idea what it’s like to have people willing to follow you up to the gates of hell!”

The chuckle that escaped Sharpe’s lips then was a direct contrast to his harsh words. “Actually, I do.” She said, and there was a small smile on her face when Sara dared to look. “ _Now_.”

As if on cue, the doors to the room exploded and went flying towards the cult members. Nora was standing at the entrance, and, much to Sara’s surprise, Snart, Rory and Jax were right behind her.

“I found some help on the way here.” The witch announced right before she sent two guards who tried to attack her flying toward the crowd.

“Let’s get this party started!” Rory shouted, his gun spitting fire towards the cult members.

“Here’s our invitation!” Snart added as he, too, started shooting.

And, as per usual, everything went to hell. Between Nora throwing guards around the room, Snart and Rory shooting and Jax fighting his way toward them, it was a bit hard to keep track of it all.

Rory reached them first, and he made quick work of Sara’s cuffs. “Well, this is different.” He said as he handed Sara one of her knives before moving to untie Sharpe too. “I didn’t have him pegged as the _Eyes Wide Shut_ type.”

Sara got up, and she grabbed the arm of a nearby guard and twisted it, willing the sound of a snap to fill her ears, even through the almost overwhelming noise. Then, she kicked him and threw him to the floor, where he stood, unmoving.

“It’s good to see you!” Sharpe’s voice caught her attention, and Sara turned to her in time to watch the captain make quick work of another guard, even as her eyes remained on Jax, who had finally reached Stein.

“We’re a team, aren’t we?” The mechanic grinned at Sharpe right before Stein and him fused into Firestorm and took flight.

Then, suddenly, the sound of Savage’s voice echoed through the room. “ _ENOUGH!_ ”

He somehow fired some sort of magical ray, and Sara threw herself to the floor in order to escape its power. The walls crumbled at the strange force, and the ex-assassin had no intention of finding out what it’d do to a human being like her.

Sara used the table on which Carter’s body was lying as cover, since it stood between herself and the madman shooting magical rays, and Sharpe had a similar idea, as she was crouched beside her. Snart, Rory and Ray had just thrown themselves at the ground, right in front of them, and Sara couldn’t see Nora or Firestorm anywhere, but she hoped they had taken cover too.

Finally, the blue ray ceased.

Sharpe was the first to speak. “Ray, you get Carter’s body out of here!” She ordered, and the man nodded, his hand slipping into the gauntlet once again. Then, the captain turned to the ex-assassin. “Sara!”

“I got this.” She assured and, when Snart started shooting again, she took the chance to slip away from her cover.

She sent four cult members to the ground with a single punch each and, when yet another one ran to her, her heel had a short encounter with his ribcage, sending him stumbling backwards. Finally, Blake was the one who stood in front of her, and Sara kicked a knife out of his hands.

They stood in front of each other, and Sara was about to make her move when something knocked her – as well as Blake and everyone else in the room – to the floor – a strange, blue force. Savage’s magic again, she supposed. _Damn him_.

She was quick to get up, and she looked at Savage just in time to see Sharpe shoot him, knocking the dagger away from his hand. Then, the ex-assassin turned to Blake, as he had also gotten up.

The banker tried three consecutive punches, and she dodged the first two before blocking the third one. It didn’t stop him from trying again – and again, and again, _and again_. Sara felt the blade in her hand, burning against her skin, and that same familiar coldness engulfed her body, her soul.

 _Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him..._ She kept repeating to herself. There was no way in hell that she would let what happened back at the bank happen again. She couldn’t.

‘ _Just so you know that the bloodlust, what you’re feeling right now... It won’t last forever. You’ll learn to deal with it, to control it, instead of letting it control you. You’ll be okay._ ’

And while a significant part of her doubted Sharpe’s words, Sara found that, more than anything, she wanted them to be true. But, for that to happen, she had to _try_.

So, Sara dodged and blocked instead of attacking, resisting the urge to exploit one of his multiple openings to grab his neck and snap it. She resisted until, for a moment, the fragile control she kept slipped, and she grabbed his wrist and threw him over the shoulder, toward the ground.

Her knife was still in her hand, and that familiar cold spreading in her soul chanted for her to sink it into his face, into his neck, into his chest. And, Sara’s fingers gripped the handle tightly, almost painfully, as the blade dove to the ground again, and again, and again.

Sweat gathered in her forehead at the effort it took to make sure the knife would sink just a bit to the side of where it should, to make sure it’d bury itself in the wooden floor, not in Blake’s face.

It was perhaps one of the most exhausting things she’d ever done – and that was saying something.

“ _Sara._ ” Her name sounded muffled, and she could not quite identify the voice that called for her, not right away. “ _Sara._ ” But she knew that voice. She _knew_ it. “Sara!”

 _Sharpe_. It was Sharpe.

Sara buried the blade into the floor one more time, and she left it there this time. She was gasping for air when she dragged her gaze to Sharpe. The captain was as disheveled as one can be, Savage lying unconscious at her feet. She was grinning at Sara in a way that conveyed nothing but pride.

The ex-assassin felt Blake moving under her, and she punched him in the face, knocking him out before he could make another move. Then, finally, she got up and looked around – the rest of the team was nowhere to be found, and all the cult members were lying unconscious on the floor.

Sharpe’s fucking plan had worked. _Who would have thought?_

Then, the captain rushed to her, holding out a hand for Sara to take. The ex-assassin didn’t hesitate, surprising even herself, and she allowed Sharpe to pull her out of the room. The duo ran to the corridor, and they didn’t stop running until they were outside of the creepy building.

Sara’s heart was hammering inside her chest in a way it was nearly painful, but the relief spreading inside her was just as undeniable. “I can’t believe your crazy plan actually worked.” She breathed out as she ran, with the captain right beside her, still holding her hand.

“I can’t believe it either.” Sharpe retorted, sounding slightly out of breath, just before she laughed. It was lively and full of a mixture of relief and something else Sara couldn’t quite put a finger on. But she seemed... happy – like, genuinely _happy_.

It was a good look on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet...
> 
> joking. hey again, y'all. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, really. I actually liked it a lot, and it's kinda rare for me to genuinely like something I wrote. I hope it was enjoyable for you as well. please let me know what you think about it and, again, feel free to tell me if there's something you want to see happening in future chapters
> 
> again, shout out to my wonderful beta, @Caffinate_Me. thank you for helping me so much with this fic
> 
> I'm kinda short on time right now, but I'd like to thank everyone for reading this fic. it means a lot to me. thank you so much
> 
> that's all, I guess
> 
> see ya!

**Author's Note:**

> so, I don't know if you know, but I had already posted this fic before, under the name 'whatever lies beyond this morning (is a little later on)', and I kinda abandoned it. I was rereading it and I didn't really like how the first chapter was doing, so I decided to rewrite it. I hope it got better and that you liked it.
> 
> so, please, tell me your opinions and if there are any mistakes. it's 11 pm here and I just finished writing, which means I didn't proof read, because otherwise I'd have to wait until the next weekend to post, since that's when I have time
> 
> anyway, tell me what you think. feedback is always welcome and much appreciated
> 
> my twitter is @capsaraIancelot. come scream at me there, and send me prompts, maybe
> 
> see ya!


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